


think of me fondly (when we've said goodbye)

by darkesky



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ben Hargreeves Lives, Ben Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Ben Hargreeves' Tentacles | Bentacles, Ben Hargreeves-centric, Gen, Griddy’s Doughnuts (Umbrella Academy), Hargreeves Children (Umbrella Academy) Need a Hug, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Not Really Character Death, POV Ben Hargreeves, Pre-Canon, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, The Umbrella Academy (TV) Spoilers, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:09:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 88,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26380933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkesky/pseuds/darkesky
Summary: As he fell to his knees, one arm still wrapped around the Horror as if that could contain it, he clawed at the board until it budged. And when it did, he flipped to the back, uncapped the pen with his teeth, and scribbled it down as fast as possible.How to Help My Siblings (and Maybe Stop the Apocalypse)- Stop Five from time traveling- Help Vanya learn how to use her powers- Tell Vanya she has powers (??)- Help Klaus curb his addiction before it gets out of control- Spend time with Luther, Allison, Diego- Stand up to Dad- don’t die this time---Time traveling has never made sense, and Ben is the only one sent back in time after the first apocalypse.
Relationships: Allison & Ben & Diego & Number Five | The Boy & Klaus & Luther & Vanya, Ben Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Ben Hargreeves & Vanya Hargreeves
Comments: 221
Kudos: 551





	1. where you long to be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Someone prodded at his stomach, and he moaned as the pain rippled through him, ghosting over his skin with its sickly touch. “Klaus, gimme a minute…”
> 
> “Dad said we don’t have a minute!”
> 
> Dad?
> 
> He flipped over, trying his best to avoid jostling anything too much, and opened an eye halfway. “Klaus, if you’re high—”
> 
> A younger Klaus stared at him with wide, focused eyes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look i just think ben is cool okay? like, man what a guy. Anyway, it's a little rambly, but it's very based off the vibe he gave off when he was in Klaus's body (he was just so excited to be alive!). It somehow turned into a whole plot, to come later, but wow. i love ben. pls comment if you like it haha because i'm like 90% sure it's just self-indulgent ben trash

“This is going to get messy!” For a second, fear rattled through Five’s voice before swallowing hard and pushing away the moment of weakness. His eyes gave him away, though. They always did in the past. He drank in all of them like this may be the last time he saw them. Ben would’ve given anything for him to stare just beyond Klaus’s shoulder where he clung, nails digging into his brother’s skin. 

He wondered if Klaus could feel it, feel the way Ben knew he could get shaken loose.

They shifted as the vortex rippled and crackled all around them. A thousand futures and a thousand pasts unfolded in front of them—them as children, them as elders, them in uniforms, them in modern clothing, them dying, them  _ living. _

And then, it all went black.

-

_ “Psst, Ben.” _

Every muscle of his body felt like someone took a cleaver to it. His skin tingled and ached with an unexplainable heat. A stomachache pounded against him, and when he tried to curl up, he gasped instead as a searing pain ripped through him. Someone threaded the air with poison; otherwise, he didn’t understand why waking up  _ hurt  _ so much. 

_ “Ben…” _

He wanted to go back to sleep. He wanted to go back  _ before  _ the vortex jump… But right as he thought that, he remembered the waver in Five’s voice, the exhaustion in Klaus’s grip, the emptiness from Vanya, and he knew life could never be the same again. The only thing he could do was get up and face Klaus and figure out the new world.

_ “Benny! C’mon, we’re going to be late!” _

Someone prodded at his stomach, and he moaned as the pain rippled through him, ghosting over his skin with its sickly touch. “Klaus, gimme a minute…”

“Dad said we don’t have a minute!”

Dad?

He flipped over, trying his best to avoid jostling anything  _ too  _ much, and opened an eye halfway. “Klaus, if you’re high—”

A younger Klaus stared at him with wide, focused eyes. If he ignored the dark crescents there, giving away his endless nights of tossing and turning, they weren’t haunted… Not in the same way. He pushed his hair out of his face, but it grew enough to expose the wide curls. And instead of any of his flashier clothes, he wore the same uniform as Five. If he counted, he knew he’d find one of them missing. He liked tempting fate and waiting to see how long it took Dad to realize he snapped off another button. 

He looked too innocent like this… If he had to guess, he’d place Klaus at thirteen like Five. Which, he supposed, wasn’t all that surprising. Had Five ever gotten a chance to fix that equation he kept rambling about? And, right now, Ben couldn’t bring himself to fault him. Because if Klaus was thirteen…

Wait...

Ben scrambled up, ignoring the pain in favor of studying his own skin. It lacked the trademark blue hue. He tried once, forced Klaus to materialize him long enough to try and scrub it out. Instead, it refused to leave him alone. No matter how hard he tried, he’d always be a ghost. But… But all he saw was his own olive skin reflected back at him. 

He reached up and felt at his face before the first choked laugh exploded out of him. There was  _ no  _ way… Was there? Had they…  _ Could  _ they have succeeded? How far back did they go? He assumed they were only going a week in an attempt to try and stop Vanya, again, armed with their new knowledge. He supposed they never really  _ discussed  _ it, but why would they want to go back this far?

Klaus stared at him the whole time. “Ben, you’re kinda freaking me out, and we really need to get going. I, uh… I don’t want to get Dad upset. You know how he is when we’re late for training—”

“He  _ did  _ it.” Before he could stop himself, he launched at Klaus, tackling him into a hug. The two of them went flying, wrestling like they used to, but he refused to let go. He had gone  _ so long  _ without being able to do this! But he could feel every part of this hug. He could feel the way his brother’s heart hammered against his own, and his own bled into the open air as if it was the most natural thing.

And maybe it was!

The Horror pressed against his skin at his excitement, eager to join in, but he shoved it away with ease. He’d deal with that later. After all, they had  _ training  _ to do. He could unleash it for the first time in ages… Though he didn’t know if it counted when he did it as a ghost. He hadn’t really realized the Horror stayed with him. Right now, he realized how much it  _ hurt  _ to have the being pressing against him, but—

Laughing too quietly, Klaus shoved him off before getting up. He glanced over his shoulder, past the open door. “Who did what? Did you tap into some of Dad’s cellar? I told you, you can’t do that too early in the day. He’ll start figuring out how to lock it down.”

“Five did it!” Ben gestured around at the room before pausing. All of the new sensations—the old experiences—kept echoing through him. A wide smile split his face. “I forgot how much I love this rug _.  _ Do you feel it, Klaus? Oh, man, I forgot how… How  _ amazing  _ the world feels this way. Don’t get me wrong, I loved being with you—Well, actually. I mean, I loved it more than being… Gone? You know? But this?  _ Oh, this…” _

“Ben…” Klaus shifted before offering his hand. When he let his brother yank him up—and he could  _ feel  _ the union of their two hands—his brother suddenly moved in and sniffed his neck. Shifting backwards, he studied Ben, brow furrowing. “You don’t even smell like booze? What did you take?”

“What did  _ I  _ take? What did you take?” It didn’t really make sense, but he had the luxury of not making sense anymore. 

He froze.

Then, he started pulling Klaus out of the room. “Wait, wait, what year even is it? Do you think Pogo is still around? You said Dad still was, so that means Pogo  _ must  _ still be around! And I have to go see everyone else! I need to go give Vanya the  _ biggest  _ effing hug in the history of the world because God knows she deserves it. Oh, and I can make fun of Diego for dropping out of the academy—I can ask him  _ why  _ he dropped out! He never told you! And you can tell me about Dave, and—”

“Ben…” While he might have tugged at Ben, Ben was always the stronger sibling at this age. Klaus was all skin and bone, and Ben had a little more heft to him. Both Five and Ben got to eat whatever they wanted since their powers demanded it, and Klaus skipped meals more often than not, too disgusted by his powers to eat. This time around, he knew how to control them, though, so that wouldn’t be a problem.

Still, he stopped to give Klaus a second to get his bearings. “What? Don’t you want to see everyone?”

“What…” Klaus fished for the words, stuck. 

Ben pouted at him, bouncing on his heels. “C’mon, can’t you think on the go? We need to go find everyone else. Oh, man, do you guys have the biggest stomach aches? No, probably not. That’s the Horror, isn’t it? But, like, everything kinda feels tingly and weird, but that might be because I’m alive… That sounds  _ so good.  _ I want to say that every day.  _ Look at me! I’m alive!” _

“Benny Boo—”

“Number Four! Number Six!” 

Before, that voice always gave him chills. With that inflection, he knew the two of them were about to get in trouble too, but nothing could break his stride today. He wanted to go outside and bask in the sunlight, feel the grass and dirt beneath his bare feet again… He glanced down and curled his toes into the hardwood. Klaus already put on shoes, but since Ben just woke up, he hadn’t had the foresight to grab any. Who even  _ needed  _ shoes?

He shook his head, trying to focus on the goal again. He couldn’t keep getting distracted by little thrills. After all, another dead man started walking up their stairs—their father with that same, severe look on his face and that cane he  _ swore  _ he only used to make a point to his siblings. He even had his stupid monocle on, the one Diego stole for a reason he still didn’t really get.

Klaus stiffened beside him, and Ben shifted to protect him. If he wasn’t ready to face their father again, he didn’t need to. They could play dumb and act like they didn’t know what happened until Five got a chance to debrief them on what they did. Oh, he couldn’t wait to see Five’s face when he realized what he did for Ben. He couldn’t wait to thank him, again and again, for giving him this chance again.

“You were supposed to report to training five minutes ago. You have disappointed both me and your teammates. What would have happened, I wonder, if this was a real mission? One minute can be the difference between life or death!” Reginald banged his cane on the stairs, and Ben somehow managed to keep a straight face.

He glanced at Klaus, though, trying to see if he wanted to laugh as much at that little comment. Dying took away some of the intensity of his statements. Ben knew what was life or death now. And considering none of them died again (unless you counted the apocalypse), his siblings figured that one out as well.

Instead, Klaus still stood rigidly, and his bottom lip trembled for a second. “I’m sorry, sir, we’ll get to training.”

“Klaus—”

“Ben, let’s  _ go,”  _ he hissed back, too quiet for their father to hear. Then, he took off down the stairs, and Ben followed in his stead. The whole time, Reginald watched them without containing his disdain. He’d find a way to punish the two of them… Maybe in training. Maybe he’d embarrass them in front of everyone.

What he wouldn’t expect was the Hargreeves siblings to already be a team. They couldn’t be pitted against one another, not anymore. Even  _ Luther  _ and  _ Diego  _ found a way to overcome their differences! When they got Vanya into training, somehow, then they’d be able to reverse all of the bad blood their childhood caused.

The second they were out of earshot of Reginald, hurrying outside, he leaned in. “It’ll be  _ so nice  _ not to see that stupid statue. I hated it, you know. It didn’t even look like me—”

“Ben, I don’t know what’s going on with you today, but…” Klaus didn’t look at him, hesitating again. “But you know I’m shit at covering for people.”

“What are you talking about?”

“What are  _ you  _ talking about?” Klaus’s voice got too high, and he swallowed hard, glancing over his shoulder to make sure their dear old dad wasn’t listening. “I don’t know what’s with you this morning. But… I don’t know what statue you’re talking about. Or why you want to give Vanya a hug. Or this Dave guy. Or why you’re acting like a completely different person today, and if you wanna get drunk, go ahead, but you have to give me some warning. Or do it on a better day.”

“Klaus—” He almost tripped in his surprise, but his brother kept pushing forward. 

And then, they were in the training yard. Pogo must’ve set up an obstacle course for them to do today. At the front, Luther was already running through his stretches, chatting with Allison with a mask of professionalism. Allison kept biting her lip and giving him fond looks, giving herself away though. When she made eye contact with Ben, her cheeks went red and she glanced away. Diego was tossing one of his training knives up and down, distanced from the rest of them, and Five sat on the lawn, obviously bored. 

When he waved at them, none of them returned it. 

None of them even blinked.

“Klaus,” he whispered, “how old are we?”

And he knew the question came out strange. Going by the way Klaus stared at him like he grew another head, he could’ve asked any other question. But he chanted in his head for him to make some dumb joke.  _ They were the same age, give or take ten months. They were twenty-nine, minus the old man and the teenager, Ben. They were— _

“We’re thirteen,” Klaus said, a question there in his voice, as Five blew a loud raspberry. 

He twisted, giving them a huge shit-eating smile. “If you wanted to piss off Dad, this little rebellion isn’t going to do much.”

-

Ben couldn’t focus, and it showed. His father used to say any stray thought would give them away. He could tell, apparently, when they thought about something other than the task at hand. Right now, Ben finally accepted the truth in that. With his mind in a different place, he couldn’t lapse back into muscle memory… Especially since any of that already eroded with time only he felt.

While his siblings scrambled over the makeshift climbing wall and sprinted through the tires, he lagged at the back of the pack. He kept stumbling over his own feet, and since he didn’t get a chance to run back and put on his shoes, it became more and more of a limp. He watched the backs of his siblings as they ran farther and farther ahead.

But every time one of them glanced back, his heart stopped for a second because they could  _ see him.  _ Luther and Diego vied for the front (as always), but Diego already gave him a confused look. It used to mean he’d try and find a way to talk to Ben… Or, more appropriately, talk around Ben until Ben himself addressed the issue. Nobody ever thought his brother was a healthy communicator. Allison and Klaus both kept up the middle, and Klaus made no attempt to mask his fear.

And Five… Was Five. He kept teleporting despite Reginald warning them no powers could be used. He tried to wait until their father looked away, though, not quite as bold as he remembered but still willing to flash his father a pretty big middle finger.

He wanted to go up to all of them and beg them to remember the future. How could life go back to normal—a past version of normal—when everything changed? He saw his family grow and evolve, and he watched others crash and burn. He saw his family grow apart only to come back together, stronger than ever. There was strength in their newly formed union they always lacked in their youth.

Instead, only Ben could remember, and he might be the worst person.

Luther was Number One, whether they wanted to admit it or not, and they’d listen to him bring up the idea. Hell, he might even be able to present it to their father without being shooed away. Everyone knew Reginald listened to him most.

Diego was Mom’s favorite, so he could run it through with her. She’d keep his secrets; he already suspected she kept several of his. By having a soundboard, he could find a way  _ not  _ to sound insane, and he already had one of the most influential people on his side.

Allison was the charmer of the family, and she never messed around like that. Nobody would think it was some sort of elaborate prank. Besides, if they didn’t, maybe she could Rumor them into listening with an open mind. 

Klaus… Might not have a better chance. Maybe Ben and Klaus became too entwined in their years together. Both of them would be facing down this sort of hopelessness, this awareness nobody would listen to them. 

Five was  _ Five.  _ While he apparently would always be the elder in the family in the future due to his years in the apocalypse, everyone respected him these days. He stood up to Dad. He experimented with his powers. While Luther might be the leader, Five knew more about what they did.

And Vanya knew how to fold her emotions away until she needed to show her hand. It backfired with the apocalypse, but he remembered reading her damn book. Nobody knew she felt like that… Or, at least, not to that extent. To throw the others under the bus and reveal their biggest secrets to the world. 

Ironically, he almost wished he had a copy of her book right now. That’d be hard proof, and maybe it’d provide answers to what he needed to do going forward. He knew Klaus’s life best, especially after Five vanished. Ben might have tried to be the best brother to all of them, but he knew he’d always be closest to Klaus. It was a stroke of luck his best friend could see and hear ghosts.

“Number Six!” Reginald cried out. “Your team is leaving you behind! You must make haste!”

Ben tried to hide the smile starting to grow. He  _ was  _ part of the team again… Now, he just needed to convince them of what would come if they didn’t change anything. 

A small part of him wondered if he dreamt it up. Or maybe  _ this  _ was a dream. But then, he remembered the pain of being ripped apart, of succumbing to the powers that be, of waking up alone and scared only to realize he  _ hadn’t  _ woken up, that he would never wake up again. And that pain refused to ebb right now. It settled on the surface of his skin, prickly and wrong, and every once and awhile, he’d remember he wasn’t supposed to be here. The Horror purred inside of him, wanting to be released again.

“Number Six—”

Reginald cut himself off, and when Ben glanced over, he caught him exchanging frustrations to the ever-clinical Pogo. Judging by the chimp’s gaze, it had something to do with his lack of shoes. Their argument started to boil over right as Ben managed to get over the wall and vault back to the ground, ready to go on an even stretch of land for sprinting. Both Luther and Diego started to round the corner, ready to start it again, while Ben was hardly halfway.

After training, he just needed a chance to talk to them. Or, one of them. As he started to run, he tried to remember things nobody else could know. They would have  _ had  _ to come from someone who either died or came from the future. How did Five manage to convince them in the first place?

Right, he fell out of the sky.

Well, he wasn’t going to be that dramatic.

“If he needed shoes, he should have come prepared! Number Six, one additional lap on the obstacle course to make up for this subpar performance!” Because if shame didn’t provide a good enough motivator, his father would use physical exertion. To think, he hadn’t seen his father in sixteen years, and he still didn’t miss him.

When they first got word of Reginald’s passing, Klaus asked Ben if he’d try and seek him out or if he thought he went to heaven. Ben gaped and struggled to find the words. Ultimately, he let his brother fall asleep high while he stayed awake, contemplating. That would be the  _ first  _ person he knew, directly, who had died. 

In a way, it was almost sad Reginald didn’t remember dying with how beautiful it felt to be alive again. The sun curled and blossomed on his exposed skin, flooding his senses with golden warmth. The grass rippled beneath his still bare (though bleeding now) feet, and even the pain reminded him of the glory of having a beating heart. The breeze danced through his hair, messing it up, a huge change from the perfect coiff he couldn’t erase no matter how much he wanted to tug and pull on it.

Instead, he kept running, one foot after the next, focusing on ways to convince his siblings.

Left foot.

Vanya’s powers. None of them should know about them, so if he brought it up and  _ proved it,  _ it might get him somewhere. Or, they’d suspect he broke into Dad’s office instead because that made more sense.

Right foot.

The impending apocalypse. His father obviously believed in it, but he doubted anyone else did. And the last person he wanted to convince was Reginald because somehow, that’d probably provide motivation to try and send Five into the future.

Left foot.

Five might believe him.

Right foot.

Five had been practicing with time travel around now, hadn’t he? He wanted to try, and when their father refused to give him the opportunity, he did it anyway.

Left foot.

He needed to talk—

His foot collided with something solid, and he started to fall right as Five popped in front of him. As the blue curled around him, Ben’s eyes snapped up to find Five’s bright,  _ young  _ eyes. Everyone else lost a decade or so… He lost four or five. 

It took a few seconds for his words to register. He was too busy marvelling at Five’s warm grip, at the way his fingers pinched and bruised his skin. This might be the first time someone other than Klaus interacted with him in ages.

“—Ben, what the  _ fuck  _ are you doing?” Five pushed him away and backed up, starting to jog at an easier pace, letting him fall into step. “I don’t get what you’re doing, but you’re doing it wrong. You’re just pissing off Dad and making things harder on yourself.”

“I’m not… Doing anything?” He knew it came out flat, but what else would he be able to say? This couldn’t be resolved in a matter of minutes, and it definitely couldn’t be resolved with everyone this close to him. 

Five stared at him. “You’re just acting like a dumbass for fun? Then, on behalf of the team, I’d kindly ask you to stop dicking around.”

“I’m not acting like a dumbass—” The words caught in his throat. It felt like arguing with Klaus, but he argued with  _ Five.  _ He could have real life conversations with someone other than Klaus. And sure, everyone always said Five was horribly condescending and made sure they all felt inferior, but…

Five scowled. “What are you looking at?”

“Nothing…” Ben smiled. “I just missed you a lot.”

-

If he thought the obstacle course was a form of torture, he should’ve known something else was coming. His father refused to do anything halfway, and while Ben didn’t really know what day of the week it might be, he knew enough. Unless it was Saturday, their father would make sure they had something to do up until the very last minute. 

This time, it happened to be sparring. They all lined up in number order, from Luther to Ben, and he glanced up the stairs in time to see Vanya peeking out at them. He waved back before Five elbowed him in the ribs, trying to stop him from acting out anymore. 

“What?” Ben murmured, flashing him his most innocuous smile. In his mind, he wondered what it would feel like to have someone on his other side. Before, they all accepted the Umbrella Academy only had six members. Now, he needed to find a way to get Vanya back with them. She needed to be trained. “I’m just saying hi to our sister.”

“You haven’t even said hi to that sister.” Five jerked his head towards Allison. “So I’m not buying your shit today.”

“When have you ever bought anyone’s crap, Five?” His smile grew a little wider.

His brother gave him a long look before glancing down the line, his fists clenching at his side. “You look like a clown right now.”

“Maybe it’s the uniform,” Klaus stage-whispered. He puffed out his chest and pulled at the sides of the jacket before curling his lip in distaste. “I’d prefer something a little less… Stifling. It feels like the boys can’t breathe, if you get my drift.”

“I don’t.” Five shifted, straightening and reaching up to make sure his uniform still looked impeccable. “I could wear this every day and wouldn’t complain—”

Ben wheezed.

Right as an argument started to brew, the sound of the cane rang out across the room. He could tell the second it registered for all of his siblings. Luther’s mouth snapped shut mid-conversation with Allison, and she started fiddling with the ends of her hair, looking anywhere but his direction. And there were the two treated the  _ best  _ from their father. Diego tried to control his little fidgets, tried to stand as straight and still as possible, and Klaus’s jaw tensed as he snapped into a more rigid position. It lacked his usual… Flailing.

Only Five and Ben acted unaffected. And no matter how much Five would pretend he was above it, he knew he tried to prove something to the old man. There was a reason only Reginald could set him off enough he’d go running to the future. There was a reason he tried to get his plans in order before he ran them by their dad. He wanted to be as intelligent, as wise as him, no matter the cost.

Or, at least, before he paid the cost. Right now, he didn’t understand what his ambitions would do to him. And this time, maybe he never really needed to know. Maybe he could keep his brother from the terrible future waiting for them. 

As for Ben, he never really feared their father before. He existed in the middle of the pack. He never astounded; his powers came and went on their own, and every time Ben tried to articulate the Horror, nobody understood. So, they mostly left him to his own devices as long as he unleashed it when needed. He didn’t misbehave like Five, who overused his talents, and Klaus, who refused his. He didn’t struggle with a stutter, and he didn’t try to suck up to their father. He simply… Coexisted.

And now, what would he do? Nothing could be worse than the future Ben saw. Nothing could be worse than dying and watching your siblings move on without you. Nothing could be worse than getting a front-row seat to the unraveling of them all, equipped with advice and tips with Klaus being his only voice.

“I have decided to have you spar based on your results from this morning’s course.” Reginald studied Ben for a long moment, looking pointedly at his battered feet. Ben curled his toes and ignored it. If he never got a chance to put on shoes, then so be it. “Pogo?”

Pogo rolled a chalkboard into the main room with a list of the pairings. It gave three different rounds of sparring, and the Horror practically screeched with delight. Against those three, it’d get the opportunity to exercise in the way it wanted so desperately.

He pressed a hand against his stomach, whispering.  _ “Behave—” _

“Number Six! Do you have something you’d like to share with the group considering you  _ keep  _ letting us down today?” Reginald stopped in front of him.

Ben’s voice faltered, and Five shifted closer as if offering some kind of warning. Some kind of plea to stop shooting himself in the foot. “No, sir.”

“No, please elaborate!” He leaned down to make sure the two of them would maintain eye contact. Ben didn’t know what to do. If he looked away, would he give himself away? Would maintaining it be a mistake? No, it… He couldn’t remember what he would’ve done in the past. “What’s so important that you feel the need to put yourself in the center of attention? Is being a team player truly that difficult for you to comprehend today?”

“No, sir, I…” He fished for the only believable lie and balanced it with the truth. “The Horror is acting up a little, and I don’t know… If it’ll be able to contain itself if I spar with anyone.”

And  _ that  _ got everyone’s attention. Ben didn’t like talking about the Horror—he still didn’t. The second the words rolled off his tongue, he realized how his skin crawled and the Horror started to pick at him again. It made him feel less than human to even bring it up. After all, it just wanted to  _ eat  _ and  _ devour.  _ It took years for it to understand his siblings meant the world to him. He didn’t intend to be Number Six if he couldn’t have the Umbrella Academy by him, and for that reason alone, it needed to leave them be.

It laughed instead, ringing in his ears, as his father stared at him, bemused. “Well, that’s why we keep you around, isn’t it? For you to control the Horror?”

“Well, yes—” 

“And I doubt it’ll be able to break skin. You’re up first.” Reginald gestured for the rest of them to stand back, and Grace rolled out a mat. As usual, they were expected to stay within the bounds of the wrestling mat, but they could use their power however they wanted. All of them needed to get better at close-range fighting with the notable exception of Luther.

Ben assumed the second he faced Luther this was intended as punishment. Reginald matched the lowest score with the highest, meaning he’d go up against the golden boy. Diego and Five would duke it out next, leaving Allison and Klaus to do a somewhat half-hearted duel where neither of them wanted to win.

Luther cracked his knuckles and started stretching. 

At the sight, the Horror roared, and he gagged at the strength of it. He pressed his hands against the heat pooling in his stomach, begging for it to calm down a little. Instead, it rolled against him, desperate to start the match. 

Now, all of them were staring at him in a different way.

Allison attempted first. “Dad, surely Ben can—”

“Control his powers? I agree, it’d be amazing if he could pull that off.” He gestured for Pogo to set up a timer. Both of them knew this fight could be over in a matter of minutes… For different reasons. Maybe he could just take a few punches and let himself go down. It’d be the easiest solution.

The Horror rumbled against him, but he gritted his teeth and forced it back inside right as Luther smacked him across the face. It’d leave a bruise, and as sparks exploded across his vision, he staggered towards the edge of the mat and took a step off.

“I lost,” he said through the cotton which seemed to fill his mouth. He didn’t envy the bad guys Luther always seemed to take on. All the while, the Horror whined and moaned, trying to reach out of him and insert itself into the fight. If he threw a punch, it’d seize the opportunity. Even if he tried to block, it would. 

His father clucked. “Timer’s still going. Another match then, Number Six, and know by failing to train now, you will doom one of your siblings in the near future.”

The thing that doomed them was Reginald, he thought as he stepped back into the ring. He must’ve made a gesture because Luther pulled him into a chokehold. And that’s how it went for four matches, and Ben ached and sweated and bled but he couldn’t give in. He hadn’t even seen the Horror yet—

Luther punched him in the stomach, and it  _ exploded  _ out of him.

It felt like the world grinded to a stop as he saw the Horror unleash itself. The last time he saw it, it possessed that same ghostly blue which followed him around. And the time before, he watched as it flopped out around him like a dying flower, slick with its own slime and his blood. He remembered reaching out when they didn’t so much as twitch, and he remembered wondering if the Horror could die.

Later, he learned it could only die if he died. Their lives were, somehow, connected. That was a fun fact courtesy of their father when he… Performed an ‘autopsy.’

It looked sickly… Most of the color had drained out of it, and it almost looked like it had fried in the sun and curled in on itself. Or maybe it looked like someone sucked the life out of it. Either way, it didn’t look plump like usual. It didn’t look  _ threatening.  _ One of the tentacles couldn’t even unfurl all the way, leaving a constant pressure on his ribs making it difficult to breathe, and the other dragged on the ground, unable to lift off the ground. One of them was nothing but a stub.

Death had not treated it kindly. 

“Ben?” Klaus asked behind him, voice wavering in concern.

But the Horror had won this round, and it lashed out, sending Luther flying through the air. He urged it to catch him, to lighten the floor, but instead, his brother slammed against the wooden bookcase with a sickening crack.

The tentacles hung there for a few seconds, drinking in the sunlight, drinking in the energy of being alive. Once upon a time, his father told him the Horror fed off terror and bloodshed. The only way it could reach those, though, was through Ben. And in those notes he found after he died, he learned he provided a portal into this world for the Horror. Otherwise, it couldn’t break through. Otherwise, it’d be stuck eating away at itself to keep from dying. 

It explained why some of the tentacles were hurt.

It explained why it still begged for bloodshed as he shoved it back inside him, staggering backwards, gagging and moaning.

Reginald hurried over to Luther, and between him and Pogo, both shielded him from view. “What did I say, Number Six? You should’ve been better prepared.”

_ “What did you do?”  _ he murmured down to the Horror.

It growled instead, desperate to fight longer, harder. 

“The next fight will commence in a minute, and I expect all of you to be ready.” Reginald nodded at Pogo. “Get Grace and transport him to the medical ward.”

_ “What did you do?”  _ he whispered again, heart pounding in his ears. Someone placed a hand on his arm, but he jerked away.

“Number Six!” Reginald straightened. “Your training is not done.”

_ What did I do what did I do what did I do _

And before his father could stop him, he turned and fled.

-

Once upon a time, all of their rooms looked identical. They got a bed, a desk, a dresser, and a bookcase. In true Reginald fashion, he asked what more they could possibly want. If they wanted new furniture or belongings, they went through Pogo and Grace. Considering how much money they got rewarded for every bank robbery they stopped and every gang they busted, they all knew Reginald was taking more money than he should. But, at the end of the day, what could they say?

He hadn’t stepped foot in his room since he, well, died. Crossing the threshold felt almost cruel. It served as another reminder of what he lost. And this morning, when Klaus shook him awake, he didn’t take a second to register where he woke up. Now, he can see his shoes shucked in the corner and the books neatly tucked away.

Now, he can find that journal he hid in the floorboard. He once told Vanya he planned on writing a memoir. At the very least, he needed to collect the stories from now. That way, when he went to therapy when they got older, they’d be able to trace back his issues to specific instants. She had laughed, and he wondered if he really meant it as a joke.

As he fell to his knees, one arm still wrapped around the Horror as if that could contain it, he clawed at the board until it budged. And when it did, he flipped to the back, uncapped the pen with his teeth, and scribbled it down as fast as possible.

_ How to Help My Siblings (and Maybe Stop the Apocalypse) _

_ \- Stop Five from time traveling _

_ \- Help Vanya learn how to use her powers _

_ \- Tell Vanya she has powers (??) _

_ \- Help Klaus curb his addiction before it gets out of control _

_ \- Spend time with Luther, Allison, Diego _

_ \- Stand up to Dad _

_ \- don’t die this time _

Someone knocked on the door, and he shoved the journal back in the floorboard right as Klaus threw open the door.

“Luther’s fine,” Klaus said, shifting from foot to foot.

Ben glanced down at the floor for a few seconds before clutching at his stomach again, ignoring the vibrations of the Horror. It was hungry;  _ he  _ was hungry. It didn’t matter, though, because they could go without food. Especially since they  _ hurt  _ Luther. “That’s good. I, uh, thought I might’ve… Really hurt him this time.”

“Well, you didn’t, so…” He bounced across the room before plopping down on his bed. “Are you okay…?”

He forced a smile. “I will be…”

“Ben—”

_ “We will be.”  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tentacles? Are different to write (also why is the tag bentacles, I have so many questions) because Ben's terrified of them but they're not really depicted in the series... I mean, it makes sense considering he's not really in a position to use them. But darn, does it make it hard to write.
> 
> ALSO every other Hargreeves sibling will come in the future chapters. This was more about Ben, and then Ben and Klaus and maybe a little Ben and Five, but I promise, Vanya will be coming around soon :)


	2. waking, silent and resigned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Pogo and Grace were already inside, setting up equipment around the steel table. There’s a stool right beside it. There were straps where his wrists and ankles would fall, and he ignored the stab of anxiety racing through him. They set up a heart monitor and an IV already too. 
> 
> “We all saw the state of the Horror last night… We need to gauge how bad it has become. If it’s too… Deceased, perhaps it’s time to try and be rid of it.” Reginald gestured for him to climb on the steel table.
> 
> Before his boldness could leave him, he kissed Vanya on the cheek and clambered up."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can you believe ben's favorites canonically are also my favorites? One day, he'll talk to Luther and Allison, one on one, but we're slowly getting his interactions with more of the family!

He woke up to a knife pressed against his throat.

Ben stiffened, whatever dream he had falling away at that moment. His instinct jumpstarted a few seconds later. In the back of his mind, he could hear Reginald barking to ‘assess his threat,’ so he scanned his attacker’s face. At first glance, the middle-aged woman wouldn’t be intimidating. She kept her hair in a short, bouncy bob and wore an excessively elaborate dress and hat. Then, he saw the bullet wound on her temple and the manic energy crackling in her eyes.

Plus, the knife. That definitely put him on edge.

“What do you want?” he managed to get out, no waver in his voice. Underneath the blankets, he clenched his fists and started prodding at the Horror in his mind. Like it or not, its desire to turn people inside out helped. It whined and pressed against him, but he kept it sealed off for now. 

She snorted out a laugh. “Just to talk with my little anomaly. Really, is everyone in your family so uncivilized all the time? I would’ve thought manners would make your training, but who am I to tell you how to parent your children?”

“Can we talk without the knife?” It dug into his skin every time he spoke. 

The woman studied his expression, and he kept it set in stone. Out of his siblings, he might be one of the most emotional, but he knew that had a time and place. Sometimes, being stoic got you more… Especially since he had no idea what was happening. 

She fell back and nodded, and he scooted back against his headboard. If he was Diego, he could grab one of the knives he kept under his pillow. Ben always tried to keep his room separate from training though. Here, he could pretend he wasn’t a monster. Here, he could pretend he was just someone with a crazy family. 

He regretted it now. 

“I’ve been sent from the Commission. Have you heard of it?” At his vacant stare, she huffed out in annoyance. “Of course you’re the one who remembered and not my darling Five. He would’ve been up to date already, trying to fix this mess he made.”

“You know Five?” 

“Know Five? I practically  _ raised  _ him to be the man he is… Well, was. Could be. Time is a little more fluid these days.” There was something strange on her face when she talked about his brother, though. A little too sentimental and a little too angry. The mix didn’t make sense, and he wanted to run to his brother’s room and keep this woman from ever meeting him. 

Instead, he gritted his teeth and stayed in bed. “You were the one who trained him to be a time assassin?”

“When you say it like that, it almost sounds bad. He wanted the position just as much as we wanted to give it to him. Sure, he’s taken a few…  _ Luxuries.”  _

“Didn’t he also take shrapnel in the chest?” 

She made a hand gesture he didn’t really get. “That’s all in the future. You can hardly blame us for it now. And besides, if he would’ve died then, we could’ve stopped a  _ lot  _ of problems he caused right now.”

“What problems did he cause right now?” Because Ben could probably list them all off, but he could also list all of the problems his brother managed to solve. Such as the end of the world. He imagined  _ that  _ had to take priority over any mistake he might’ve made by jumping them back to their childhood.

She raised an eyebrow. “Well, the fact you’re alive right now is a tad bit problematic.”

“I was still alive when I was thirteen.” He ignored the way it pulled at him to  _ say  _ that. His life was divided into being alive and dead, and he knew the years he spent with Klaus barely counted. He grew up with only his brother, watching all of his other siblings from afar. 

After a few seconds, the woman laughed loudly, throwing back her head. “Okay then! If you’re content to let yourself die when you’re sixteen, then we don’t have to have this conversation.”

“I—”

“If you agree not to change the timeline at all, we don’t need to talk. But it’s the Commission’s job to keep people from altering the flow of time. Right now, you’re the biggest threat to it. By projecting back to this time period, your brother has effectively made every action past this point unknowable for your family… And maybe beyond that if you get around, little Anomaly.” She reached out and bopped him on the nose.

He stared at her, eyes crossing to glance at his nose. That… Was gross. “Then, we’re not really changing the future. Everyone changes the future by making choices, and we’ll just make different ones this time.”

“You really  _ are  _ self-important like Five! You travelled back from the future! You can’t just rewrite time as you go now!” The woman clapped, and someone shuffled in the next room. His eyes flew there, heart stopping. He shared a wall with Klaus, and most of the time, both of them ignored loud noises from the other. He walked in on  _ way  _ too many compromising situations with his brother (though, as a ghost, his life became compromising situations with Klaus), and Klaus felt the same. This time, though, he knew Klaus was worried he was losing his mind or something. He might check in. 

He needed to hurry this along. “I thought time was linear.”

“Well, it is—”

“So, we’re rewriting this segment of it. I bet it won’t affect things too much. There’s just seven of us. And once we become twenty-nine, it’s technically not diverging from the timeline. Because we hadn’t lived in that time yet.” He listened to Five years ago when he first started rambling about time travel. 

The woman shook her head adamantly. “I can’t allow you to change time drastically. Your siblings have made this easy for us by Five wiping their memories back to this state. You, though? You’re the biggest liability the Commission has had in awhile.”

_ “Ben?”  _ Klaus called through the wall, slurring his words from sleep. 

“I can’t just let them ruin their lives again…” Ben glanced at her knife. “Wouldn’t killing me change things just as much? Five wouldn’t jump forward in time if I died right now. He’d stay with the family.”

“You know, your family is beyond infuriating. I regret ever dealing with a Hargreeves.” She tossed the knife to the opposite wall, and it sunk in. He let out a breath of relief when he figured out it wasn’t the one he shared with Klaus. He’d have some  _ serious  _ questions he didn’t think he could answer.

_ ‘Hey, Klaus! The knife is from a scary lady who works with the time travel agency who is worried I’m going to alter time too much to be left alive! By the way, I’m from sixteen years in the future where we tried and failed to stop the apocalypse. What do you want for breakfast?’ _

“I can’t kill you. It’s not my orders.” She let out a heavy sigh as he heard Klaus’s door creep open. “But, that doesn’t mean we won’t be watching you. If you make too great of a wave, it might become worth the risk to off you. So, watch yourself, Anomaly.”

“What counts as too great of a wave?” Because he’d really rather  _ not  _ die this time.

“Nobody cares about your personal relationships with your siblings. Do what you want. But tracking down important people and telling them what’s to come. Killing someone essential. Warning people of a future event.” She paused, licked her lips. “Keeping your brother from time travelling forward and keeping your sister from causing the apocalypse—”

“I  _ can’t  _ let them do either of those.” 

“Ben? Who are you talking to?” Klaus knocked on the door.

The woman laughed. “Then, I  _ will  _ be back the second you stop him from doing that. Enjoy your last week alive, Benny Boo. Oh, and if you want to tell your brother the truth, you were talking to the Handler… And I won’t hesitate to  _ handle  _ this situation. Ta-ta!”

And with that, she disappeared in a portal of blue light. His mind looped her words, over and over. In a week, Five time travelled to the apocalypse and got stranded there for about forty years. In a week, he either let him ruin his life again, or he risked his own life. 

He knew, deep down, it wasn’t a choice.

Deep down, though, he was horrified at the idea of dying. He… He  _ can’t  _ die again. There’s something reassuring about knowing what happened next, and there’s something  _ not.  _ He never walked into the light. He doesn’t know if he could do that many years by Klaus’s side again, knowing they’ve reset back to their thirteen-year-old selves.

He almost doesn’t notice Klaus peeking in, staring. “Uh, Ben? Was someone… In here with you?”

Ben took a deep breath before letting out a slightly hysterical laugh. “Nope! I, uh, was reading my book out loud. It’s… Yeah.”

“What book?” Klaus glanced around him, trying to find one. He stopped when he saw the knife still embedded in the wall.

Ben blinked. “The book got really intense.”

“Are you… Okay?” he asked for what must be the twentieth time since he travelled back in time. Klaus closed the door behind him and crossed his arms, trying to go for stern but really looking like a Grace wannabe. “Be honest this time. I don’t want you to do anything… Stupid.”

“Nobody can be as stupid as you.” He stuck out his tongue, and when Klaus started spluttering, offended, he knew that’d distract him long enough. 

Mid-rant, Ben patted the bed and cut Klaus off. “Can I ask you something weird?”

“Everything you say is weird, so I don’t know why you’re asking for permission now.”

“Can you just… Stay with me until morning?” He flashed a bright smile, hoping it didn’t give him away. Judging by the way Klaus softened, it did though. Klaus crossed the room and practically pounced on Ben, giving him a huge hug.

Klaus leaned, murmuring in his ear. “The others are worried about you too. What’s… What’s going on with the Horror?”

“Nothing I can’t handle…” He pulled Klaus closer, relishing in the hug. He could get a hug from one of his siblings every single day, and it still wouldn’t be enough to make up for the ones he missed. He wanted to hug Allison on her wedding day, he wanted to hug Diego when he got accepted into the police academy, he wanted to hug Five when he came back from the future. Instead, he had to settle.

_ This  _ wasn’t settling. This was getting his life back, bit by bit, and he drank in Klaus’s warmth and heartbeat, trying not to start crying. He didn’t know if it was because he was overwhelmed or happy or scared… He just knew he didn’t want to let go anytime soon. 

-

“Today, we’re going to do things a little differently,” Reginald announced as they all lined up, from Luther to Vanya. He kept shooting his sister smiles, trying to catch her eye. She almost seemed overwhelmed by the attention, cheeks going bright red. He didn’t know why their father chose to include her today, but he’d take it. That loneliness and jealousy drove her to end the world the first time.

If he thought he could get away with it, he might even attempt to hold her hand. Ben wasn’t this tactile before. Klaus pointed it out as they cuddled under his blankets, and he held his breath, hoping he’d move on. How could he explain it? After years of being deprived of touching anything, he wanted to be connected to someone constantly. It felt like he was being tethered to the earth again. 

And on the other end of the line, he kept trying to make eye contact with Luther. He didn’t know to apologize, but he  _ needed  _ to. He couldn’t guarantee it wouldn’t happen again, but he’d try his damndest. And he  _ could  _ say he never wanted that to happen. From the bottom of his heart, he didn’t want him to be injured.

Klaus told him he walked away with nothing but a few sore muscles. He sparred with Diego within half an hour, ready to prove himself to their father, and it left a sick taste in his mouth. He  _ knew  _ Luther would ignore his injuries if it meant Reginald would think higher of him. It didn’t mean it didn’t sting still.

Reginald stopped in front of Luther. “You will be leading training exercises today. I have business to attend elsewhere in the house. I expect, when I finish, I will come back to you all being productive.”

“Yes, sir!” Luther didn’t glance towards the rest of them, staring solely at their father.

He had moved on, stopping in front of Ben. “And you, Number Six, will accompany me. Number Seven will come along to help you calm your Horror.”

Only Reginald referred to it as  _ Ben’s  _ Horror. Everyone else called it the Horror. It could never belong to Ben; some days,  _ most days,  _ it felt like he belonged to it. At the mention of its name, it perked up again, excited by the idea of being brought to the surface again. It wanted to attack the Handler; it still thrummed with that telltale energy.

Five shot them a confused look. “Father, why do you need Vanya there—”

“If I wanted your feedback, Number Five, I would’ve asked it. Luther, bring your team out to the training yard… And don’t plan for Number Six returning.” Reginald turned, walking down the hallway.

Five jumped in front of him, and he didn’t even blink. “Don’t you think it’s too dangerous for Vanya?”

“I think that will be proper motivation for Six to control his abilities.” He gestured for the two of them to follow, and Ben lunged for Vanya’s hand at that moment, twining their fingers together. She jumped before a huge smile split across her face.

He leant in. “I would never hurt you.”

“He couldn’t control it yesterday when it attacked Luther!” Five refused to move. 

Vanya must’ve felt the way he pulled away because she tugged him ever closer. “Hey. That was an accident, and we all make mistakes.”

“Thanks, Van.” He butted their shoulders together, and he wondered how they deprived her of these little moments before. Five and Ben were the closest to Vanya, and they were both the ones who left. 

He used to visit Vanya, maybe the most out of all his siblings. He’d phase through the walls and doors of her apartment building no matter how much he hated the way it made him feel unreal, and he’d watch and listen to her play. He used to sit outside her door and listen; if he closed his eyes, he could imagine they were there. Back when Vanya still had a family, even if they were estranged, and back when Ben still drew breath.

Then, he’d open his eyes, and they’d both be alone, too far away to reach out to one another. 

As Reginald pushed past him, Five kept blinking in front. “What are you even  _ doing  _ with Ben and the Horror? Everyone saw it yesterday! It’s  _ dying.” _

“Is it really?” Vanya murmured.

He pressed his free hand against his stomach. “That’d make life too easy, wouldn’t it?”

“Why does life have to be hard?”

His response died as he studied her sister. Right now, she still had her whole future in front of her. She didn’t know of the long nights alone with her violin. She didn’t know of making sandwiches in the middle of the night, leaving it out for someone who’d never return. Not in the time it’d take. She didn’t know of the funeral where they all fought and fell apart while Ben watched, sick to his stomach with that bright light still shining in the back of his mind. 

“It shouldn’t be,” he said at last, “but it’s less hard when we have a family.”

Her eyebrows shot up, disappearing into her bangs, as she studied him. “Are you… Are you serious?”

“I know I haven’t been the best brother to you, but…” He huffed out a laugh, unsure of how to continue. “You’re our sister, Vanya. You’re not alone at the table anymore—”

She lunged at him, crushing him into a hug. It surprised a laugh out of him. 

In front of them, Reginald banged his cane on the ground. “Number Six! Number Seven! This is  _ entirely  _ inappropriate of you! If you want to do that, you can wait until Saturday in your free time.”

“Yes, sir,” Vanya mumbled, pulling back with a smile.

Five watched them, gaping. Ben shrugged as they walked past him. Somehow,  _ that  _ was what shut him up about the Horror. Then again, he doubted it could lay a hand—er, tentacle—on Vanya. Not with him being able to pull it back. Hurting Luther was one thing; his brother managed to spring back considering he stood there, rigid and ready. 

They continued down through the house, going to the basement, and he wondered if Vanya would sense something was wrong. If he took off running, he could reach the chamber they sealed her in. But he also knew torture methods existed in other rooms. One was filled with tanks of water, meant to see if Diego could hold his breath. Another was marked with X’s, and Five had to teleport to each spot over and over and over until he either passed out or puked, whatever came first.

They went to a room where they could keep a dead body instead.

Pogo and Grace were already inside, setting up equipment around the steel table. There’s a stool right beside it. There were straps where his wrists and ankles would fall, and he ignored the stab of anxiety racing through him. They set up a heart monitor and an IV already too. 

“We all saw the state of the Horror last night… We need to gauge how bad it has become. If it’s too… Deceased, perhaps it’s time to try and be rid of it.” Reginald gestured for him to climb on the steel table.

Before his boldness could leave him, he kissed Vanya on the cheek and clambered up. As he eased down, Grace and Pogo took to strapping him down. The Horror started whining inside of him, knowing what might come. They did these checkups every five years, and every time they did them, the Horror protested it.

Vanya jumped up on the stool and grabbed his hand right as Grace readied his arm for the IV. The Horror pushed against him, trying to jump out. It didn’t like drugs. It didn’t like sedatives. When it affected Ben, it affected the Horror, but the balance shifted then. He wouldn’t be the one in control. It’d be a drugged-up, frustrated Horror trying to burst out of him and fight Reginald off.

He glanced away, not wanting to see the moment the drugs entered his system. “Vanya, when I’m less… High, I guess, can I listen to you play violin?”

The needle went in.

He flinched.

“Oh! Yeah, if you want… I’m not very good…” She shuffled her feet, but she still stared at their enjoined hands. 

It took him a few seconds to realize she wasn’t staring at their hands. She was staring at his tattoo. “When we grow up, Van, we can get matching ones. Like… A quote or something. You like writing.”

Vanya’s eyes kept growing wider and wider as they talked. He knew she didn’t tell anyone about her writing, but she always had a flair for the dramatic. When nobody wanted to listen to it, you found an outlet somewhere else. She glanced towards Reginald, who was busy talking to Pogo about something in low tones, before leaning in. “I’d love that. Maybe something from Emily Dickinson. That’s your favorite poet, isn’t it?”

“Mm, I think so.” He blinked, glancing over at the sedative being pushed. Reginald always had his fast-acting kind, and already, his thoughts began to fog over.  _ “‘Love is life, and life hath immortality.’” _

_ “‘That it will never come again is what makes life so sweet,’”  _ countered Vanya.

He laughed. “Something about life. It’s… Living is just… You know?”

“I don’t.” Her smile turned softer and worried.

He squeezed her hand tightly, trying to distract her from the Horror growing in strength. He hated backseat driving to it… In a way, it’d be like using Klaus as his voice again. He couldn’t know how he’d interpret his words, his actions. He couldn’t stop it from doing what it wanted. 

He missed being around Klaus that much. Even though he knew he was just a few stories above him, he wanted to be closer to Klaus. If nobody else remembered, does it take away from his own memories? Does that relationship with Klaus disappear? Will they ever be able to get back to where he still thought they were?

“Life,” he tried again, “is the best thing in the world. It’s… It’s  _ everything,  _ you know? It’s being with you guys, and being outside, and  _ feeling  _ things again. Like, you don’t realize how much you’d miss out on.”

“Yeah…” Vanya squeezed his hand back. “It really is beautiful, isn’t it?”

He dropped his voice, too soft for Reginald to hear. “We need to get you out of here… Show you the rest of the world. I’m sorry we didn’t do it before.”

“It’s okay—”

“No, it isn’t—” He hiccuped as pressure built in his stomach. He twisted to try and press his hand there, but the strap kept him from doing it. Giggling, he twisted back towards Vanya. “We’re gonna be a family this time around. With you.”

“Ben…” She hesitated, running her thumb over his knuckles. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, okay?”

“I can keep this one.” Hiccuping again, the Horror started to push against him. His eyes fluttered as his head fell back against the table. Talking was  _ exhausting.  _ “I’m gonna fix things for you.”

Then, his eyes rolled back, and the Horror came back out, fighting. It took all of his energy to convince it to leave Vanya alone. Still, it tried to reach out for Reginald and brain him against the nearest surface.

He didn’t think he could blame it.

His father’s voice broke through the fog.  _ “Number Six!” _

He tried to pull back on the Horror, but it fought him more. As it lashed out, slowing down, he studied it. It looked… Bad in this light.

“Okay?” he asked, his words sticky and huge in his mouth.

Vanya smiled. “You’re okay.”

“Horror… Okay?” He furrowed his brow, trying to piece it together. “Eight, right?”

He had eight. Like… Like an octopus. He was a Benopus, so why couldn’t he count it? He started counting and kept losing track halfway through, and when he tried to shake his head to clear the fog, it made him almost black out.

Vanya shifted forward and pointed. “There’s five. You, uh… You’ve lost three.”

Not lost, he thought. Gone. Died. Picked off for being weak. It was like when an animal chewed off its own foot to get out of a bear trap. If Ben closed his eyes, he felt three stubs still trying to emerge from him, too small to really leave. 

“He had more yesterday,” Reginald said, poking at one of the tentacles which began to droop to the ground. The five left still looked too white, too lifeless, too drained. They were still too skinny, but they looked less  _ hungry.  _ Probably because they ate another one of their own. All of them still  _ ached  _ and  _ hurt  _ though.

They needed to feed on something. 

Pogo hummed. “His powers have always been a mystery to us, but it looks as if something occurred between yesterday and the day prior, and the tentacles are still recovering. The amount of decay suggests at least a year of insufficient food, not a day, but I don’t know what could’ve caused that.”

“Number Six!” Someone snapped in front of his face, and his eyes shot open. He hadn’t realized he closed them.

Reginald’s blurry face crystalized over him. “Is your Horror in pain? Are you in pain? What do you think caused this?”

“Not my Horror,” he slurred out. “And it always hurts.”

Vanya gasped at his side.

The Horror lashed out again, batting him back, and Reginald cursed. “Up the dosage!”

“No, w-wait—”

Ben passed out a few seconds later.

-

_ He dreamt of dying. _

_ He was sixteen years old, slumped in the backseat of the car and feeling so, so tired. The exhaustion sunk into his bones, and every time he blinked, he almost fell asleep. And then, the Horror rumbled in his stomach and shot him straight up again. Klaus gave him a foggy, half-lidded look.  _

_ He stunk of weed. _

_ When Klaus spoke, though, it wasn’t his voice. It was older, broken. “You said you wouldn’t leave me.” _

_ “I didn’t want to—” Ben choked on the words as Klaus shifted, reaching up to play with the dog tags dangling around his throat, and the world faded to black around them. _

_ He dreamt of dying. _

_ He was sixteen years old, staring at the warehouse with Diego by his side. Diego wasn’t watching, though. He kept glancing at the police officers with this  _ longing  _ on his face, and anyone could see where he wanted to end up. Ben’s heart squeezed and ached at the idea of a future. He never thought that ahead. _

_ He nudged Diego. “It’s okay, you know. If you leave.” _

_ “You would know,” Diego said, voice crisp and painful. “You’re the one who abandoned all of us.” _

_ “Diego—” But his brother pressed on, leaving him behind. And when Ben ran to catch up, his arm phased through. _

_ He dreamt of dying. _

_ He was sixteen years old, and Allison was shaking next to him, barely able to breathe. He tried to reach out, but she jerked away before he could connect. She shook her head and started to pace. The last room in the warehouse held the last of the enemies, one of the hostages, and his brother. _

_ “Allison, we’ll get him back—” _

_ “Ben, you don’t get it!” she shouted. “I love him!” _

_ And he loved Luther too, but all he could hear was the unspoken words. _

_ “You don’t get it because you don’t love any of us.” _

_ And he moved without thinking. _

_ He dreamt of dying. _

_ He doesn’t remember much. _

_ He remembered the fear. _

_ He remembered the loneliness. _

_ And he remembered, as he faded, staring at his own flopped hand lining up with one of the tentacles spread out. He remembered thinking at least this time, there was no blood. He remembered the hostage crying and gasping and apologizing as she draped a leather jacket over him, trying to warm him through his convulsions, before running away. _

_ He remembered darkness. _

_ He remembered watching his father receive his body from his crying, shaking, screaming siblings. And his father cut him open because the tentacles never receded, and he watched as he dissected the Horror, and it felt like his father dissected his own arm. Like it or not, the Horror was a part of him.  _

_ He wrote down the cause of death as an overdose, and the little puncture wounds from where the drug dealers stabbed him in an attempt to slow him down stung. At least, he thought, Klaus wouldn’t live with a bloodied body when he came to visit. He could almost pass as someone still alive like this. _

_ And after Ben’s body became unrecognizable, his father went downstairs to tell them his body had retreated to the same place the tentacles came from, some different plane of reality.  _

_ Diego found his body anyway.  _

_ Diego and Klaus ran away two months later. _

_ Ben dreamt of dying on loop, little details changing, but the conclusion always the same. He died alone, and his father hacked him open with a clinical approach, Pogo and Grace simply watching.  _

_ - _

_ “He hasn’t moved in awhile… Is he dead?” _

_ “For God’s s-s-sake, Klaus, s-stop asking that!” _

_ “Sorry…” _

_ “Is he crying?” _

_ “Oh, I tried to tell Dad it might be too much for him, but he wanted the Horror to stop moving around. Do you think I… Did I hurt Ben? I don’t want to do that, but… You know Dad never listens to me!” _

_ “Shut the f-f-fuck up, Van, it’s not your fault!” _

_ “Diego…” _

_ “Diego, are you okay?” _

_ “I’m just f-fucking freezing. That w-w-w… It’s cold.” _

_ “The water tank?” _

_ “This isn’t about m-m-me.” _

_ “You’re stuttering worse than usual—” _

_ “It’s not about me! B-besides, if he did s-special treatment for m-me and Ben…” _

_ “Oh shit.” _

_ “Oh, Klaus…” _

Ben peeked out at them, eyes still heavy-lidded. The words didn’t register, but he saw their mouths moving as he observed his three siblings. He knew these were the three he was closest to. Once, Klaus and Ben tried to pick up everyone’s favorite in the family. Luther and Allison, obviously, were each other. Five and Vanya were the same. They got stumped when it came to them.

He always said these three were his favorites because he spoke the most with them. Vanya, still holding his hand, still wide-eyed and scared for him, still glowing at the attention of the others. Klaus, sitting at the edge of the table, pale and ashen, one hand braced on Ben’s knee as if to keep him from running. And Diego, pacing at the front of the room and blurring his already strained vision, dripping everywhere.

He closed his eyes again, drifting on the high. It was relaxing in a weird way; no wonder Klaus got high so often. For once, he couldn’t feel the Horror fighting against him. For once, he wasn’t worried about anything. Time travel and the Handler hadn’t even crossed his mind—Well,  _ now,  _ they had, and— _ Shit. _

_ “I can’t do the mausoleum again. It’s… I can’t. I haven’t even done anything wrong today!” _

_ “You don’t think Dad would, right? I mean… He can’t risk having too many people out today. What if we have a mission today?” _

_ “‘W-w-we?’” _

_ “You… If you have a mission!” _

_ “Low blow, bro. And who ever said Dad was practical? He practically killed Ben!” _

_ “He didn’t—” _

_ “How long has he been unconscious? What if Ben overdosed, and none of us even noticed because we thought we knew what Dad was doing?” _

_ “Oh, and you’d know better than Dad because you’re the  _ expert  _ on drugs these days!” _

_ “Actually, I am—” _

“Stop fighting,” he slurred out, everything strung together in one noise. He looked out with one eye, trying to make out his siblings’ expressions. “Please don’t fight.”

“Sorry, Ben.” Klaus softened his voice. “I didn’t realize you woke up. How are you feeling?”

He tried to lift his hand, but something pinned it back down. When he attempted again, it failed. As he frowned at the strap, Klaus reached up and patted his cheek. “Hey, sorry, I know you’re kinda out of it right now, but we need to know. Dad kept upping it because your little friend was upset.”

“What friend? I don’t… What?”

“The H-Horror.” Diego approached, and Ben tried to move to get all of them in his view. It made his eyes go cross, though, so he gave up and pressed his eyes shut instead. 

Klaus patted his cheek again, and Ben moaned. “I wasn’t this annoying with you.”

“Yeah, but I’ve built a tolerance. You haven’t.” Klaus still smiled, soft and sympathetic. “Don’t make me ask you a third time. That’s, like, embarrassing.”

“Tired. Floaty.” He forced a smile back. “Annoyed.”

Vanya giggled, and Diego snorted. Klaus stumbled backwards, clapping a hand over his heart. Then, Ben tried to catch sight of Diego again. “You… The…”

“What?”

“The tub thing. You know.” 

“Oh.” Diego glanced away, starting to toss a knife in the air. It slipped through his fingers instantly, and as it clattered to the ground, Ben flinched away from the noise a second later. His reaction time really got muddled like this. As Diego bent over to scoop it up, he started cussing hard enough to get Vanya to blush. “Dad w-w-w—Fuck this.”

“Dad wanted to see if anyone else’s powers are fucked up,” Klaus filled in as Vanya released his hand and hurried over to reassure Diego. He jerked away and went back to his pacing. He frowned at them; he knew they were never the closest growing up. Just reading her book made that  _ very  _ clear, but they needed to close that gap sooner than later. 

Ben hummed. “Just mine, right? And…”

_ And Five’s. _

He tried to sit up again, the thought rattling against him, but every strap pulled simultaneously, hard enough to slam him back down. As stars danced in front of his vision, he let out a pathetic whine. Klaus replaced Vanya on the stool, brushing his hair out of his face with surprising tenderness. “Hey, hey, slow down. I thought you didn’t like your powers anyway. If the Horror goes away, wouldn’t that be a good thing?”

Vanya made a soft noise… Jealous, he’d guess. She’d take the Horror over nothing, and she  _ had  _ powers—

“What?” Klaus reared back. 

Oh, shit.

Vanya took a step forward, cocking her head. “What do you mean I have powers?”

Ben closed his eyes and tried to calm his breathing.

“Ben, you can’t pretend to be asleep after dropping a bombshell like that!” Vanya stomped over, but Ben kept his eyes screwed shut.

He managed to pretend to be asleep for a few more minutes before someone new interrupted him. “Guys, Dad’s wondering where you are…  _ All  _ of you.”

“W-what?” Diego asked, exhausted.

Allison sighed. “It’s dinner time—”

“It’s been all day,” he mumbled to Klaus.

Klaus nodded. “You got  _ very  _ high—”

“Ben, we need to—”

“And Dad wants Ben up there too.”

-

Ben was going to faceplant into the mashed potatoes Grace prepared for them all.

All of his siblings kept sending him worried looks as he tried to keep himself upright on the dining chair. They weren’t allowed to sit until their father came, though, and Klaus would get in trouble if he helped. The threat of the mausoleum kept his brother from even attempting. Vanya was too far away if she wanted to be where she was supposed to stand, so…

One of his legs buckled, and he barely managed to keep himself up. 

When they walked up the stairs, Diego and Klaus both pretty much carried him up. One of his legs didn’t feel like it existed, not right now, and the room kept spinning too much to keep upright. He must look like a mess. 

He thought being high would make the whole world glow and be funny and bright and actually seem  _ appealing.  _ Instead, everything came across as muted. When he moved, it felt like he was underwater… Or in mashed potatoes. Or maybe he was just latching on what he heard and saw when he first woke up.

Someone nudged him, and he startled. Oh. He hadn’t noticed everyone sitting down after Reginald arrived. He stumbled and collapsed into his seat, barely keeping from hitting the plate. He didn’t have the energy to clean up and take a shower after this. He’d be lucky if he got through this meal.

The record player droned in the background, and he started to zone out.

Five kicked him, and Ben barely registered it. When his brother mimed eating, Ben nodded but made no attempt to lift the utensils. Vanya reached over, tugging his plate closer to her to start cutting up the meat. 

Reginald cleared his throat. “Number Seven, Number Five, I imagine someone of his age would be able to eat unassisted.”

“That’s not fair—”

“And if I wanted your feedback,  _ again,  _ Number Five, I would have asked. You seem to be having a problem with listening today. Whatever will I do with you?” Their father closed the newspaper, glowering down the table at Five. 

Something distant sparked in Ben, something panicked and loud. He tried to catch Five’s eyes and shake his head, but his uncoordinated efforts led to him falling out of his chair. As he groaned and struggled to get back up, Reginald made a noise.

His father got to his feet. “These are the ones meant to save the world? I truly pity the fate of humanity.”

“Ben, let me help—”

“Number Four, if you get out of your chair, you will be spending the night in the mausoleum.”

Klaus froze.

Ben waved him off. “‘S fine, Klaus.”

“It’s not fine—” Allison said from the opposite side, cutting off when someone banged something against the table… He bet it was Five.

Reginald’s voice hardened. “I suggest you watch your next move, Number Five. I will not deal with your teenage rebellion. You are meant to be better than the average child, not worse.”

“It’s amazing any of us act like children when you treat us like fucking adults,” Five seethed.

“Perhaps that’s because you have a greater obligation to the world than your little tantrum—”

“Fuck the world! The only people I care about are in this room, and don’t delude yourself, old man, you are  _ not  _ one—”

Vanya started to move to help Ben, who slipped again. 

“Number Seven!” Reginald snapped. “If you help him up, you will spend the rest of the week in your room,  _ alone.” _

“Don’t  _ threaten  _ Vanya!” Everyone always knew Five’s favorite was Vanya. It was an ironic duo: the one who escaped most of Dad’s wrath and the one who caused most of it. “She’s just trying to be a good person unlike  _ someone.” _

“That’s it.” Reginald stood up, chair screeching backwards. “Number Five, if you don’t sit down right now—”

“No.”

“No?”

“Five,” Luther said in a low voice, “don’t make this worse for yourself.”

_ No, no, no.  _

Five couldn’t start fighting with Dad yet. That’d speed up the timeline. What if it made him start teleporting away? What if he jumped to the future  _ right now?  _ No, Ben couldn’t let him do that.

Ben finally managed to drag himself back up, sitting down and holding onto the table to keep from passing out.

Five made eye contact with him. And slowly, he sat back down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> where's the plot going? who knows! But, yay Ben! He has one week left to convince Five not to time travel and will deal with the Handler later! As per Hargreeve tradition, it just felt right to give them a timeline haha


	3. your love redeems me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He shrugged, ghosting a finger over his ribs. For all the lectures he gave Klaus, he never realized how skinny he was as a kid. Maybe that’s why he never listened to him. Or maybe it was the coke that kept sapping his brother’s appetite. “You don’t have to… I can’t sleep, and the Horror wanted me to visit you, I guess.’
> 
> “I didn’t realize it could communicate with you.” That finally caught Five’s attention, and he pulled away from the wall. Ben cocked his head as Five inspected him, trying to peer past him. His vision blurred, and objects melted into one another, but he could make out lines and lines of scribbled handwriting. If he tried to clean it up, it’d be a lot easier to find typos and mistakes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like i'm slowly losing hold on the character's voices, but i will figure it back out haha! I actually planned out the rest of the story (which is why it jumped from ten chapters to thirteen)

The rest of the night passed in a blurry haze. He knew he staggered upstairs, their father insisting he did it on his own. When he reached his bedroom, he fell to the ground and passed out right then and there. Someone else must’ve moved him to his bed. They also draped his jacket on the chair and took off his shoes, but he still wore most of his uniform. 

And now, as Ben rolled over and squinted at his clock in the dim light, it was three A.M. and he knew he wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep. The Horror roared in the back of his mind,  _ also  _ recovering from the sedatives. He felt its hatred pulsing through his veins, all directed towards his father. Given the chance, it’d rip him apart in order to gain back the rest of its strength. It never  _ did  _ like Reginald, but…

He pressed a hand against the stomachache, moaning and flipping over. While he wasn’t as high, he felt  _ exhausted.  _ He could lie awake and stare at the ceiling for the next three hours, and that’d still be too much. No wonder Klaus always overslept any alarm Ben tried to set for him. 

The Horror clawed against him, its nails settling into his ribs and teasing at the portal just above. He pushed against it harder, tempted to start scratching. As a kid, he used to wake up Grace every other night, stomach stained with bloody gashes he left behind. At one point, she wrapped his hands with bandages to keep him from battling it in his sleep. He never told them he did it consciously, trying to find a way to rip it out of his body.

“Fine,” he slurred into his pillow, “will one of the others calm you down?”

It considered it for a few moments. Then, it curled and entwined with his ribs, the pain refusing to disappear but waning. Ben took a second to collect himself before getting to his feet, practically tripping over himself. 

Nobody should be up right now. When curfew first started, Pogo and Grace took turns policing the area for Reginald. Right now, though, Grace should be charging and Pogo should be sleeping. It meant he didn’t have to be completely silent, and considering he needed the wall to brace himself up, he’d take that as a good thing. 

He went to open Klaus’s door, and the Horror sunk its teeth in. He gasped and stumbled away, cursing and spluttering as his vision flashed bright red. That  _ hurt.  _ When he reached for the doorknob again, the heat built on his stomach, and the portal threatened to rip through his skin without his consent.

He backed away, and the heat went away. 

“Who do you even want to see?” he hissed into the open air, knowing the Horror couldn’t respond. He hadn’t missed this; maybe the best part of death came from the release from the Horror. Yet, every time Klaus made him corporeal, the Horror woke up, little by little. It still didn’t warn him. 

As he went down the hallway, he attempted each of his siblings, and the Horror told him no every time. They split it up by numbers, the odds on the left side of the staircase and the evens on the right. Vanya existed somewhere else. God forbid they ever let their sister feel like part of the family. 

He expected the Horror to stop him when he reached Five, but instead, he yanked open the door and tripped inside with no protest. When he hit the ground, he groaned as the pressure finally eased up. “Okay, okay, I get it!”

“You get what?” Five jumped, closing the door again, before appearing back on top of his desk.

Ben stared up at him with a dopey smile before pushing up and grabbing one of the blankets off his bed. His baby brother never mastered the art of staying up late. Cramming it against the bottom of the door to keep any light from leaking outwards, he stepped back to study his work. Then, he plopped down at the foot of the bed. “Nothing, just talking to the Horror.”

“So, you’re still high. Great. Now, I have to babysit you.” He huffed. 

He shrugged, ghosting a finger over his ribs. For all the lectures he gave Klaus, he never realized how skinny he was as a kid. Maybe that’s why he never listened to him. Or maybe it was the coke that kept sapping his brother’s appetite. “You don’t have to… I can’t sleep, and the Horror wanted me to visit you, I guess.’

“I didn’t realize it could communicate with you.” That finally caught Five’s attention, and he pulled away from the wall. Ben cocked his head as Five inspected him, trying to peer past him. His vision blurred, and objects melted into one another, but he could make out lines and lines of scribbled handwriting. If he tried to clean it up, it’d be a lot easier to find typos and mistakes. “When did  _ that  _ start?”

“It doesn’t really.” He made a floppy hand gesture, a smile pulling at his face. Klaus used to do that to him, and it pissed him off because it meant nothing. “It’s, like, a game of hot and cold. But cold is really, really painful and it feels like it’s trying to crawl out of me by turning my skin inside out, and hot is just the pain level of appendicitis.”

Five gawked at him.

Ben moved on. “Whatcha working on?”

“Oh. You wouldn’t understand…” His voice drifted off, preoccupied with something else, and he studied his brother instead. His eyes were bloodshot with deep purple crescents lining them, and he somehow got paler. His hands shook, blue energy collecting and weaving between his fingers, but he clenched them to force it to disappear every few moments. 

Ben smiled gently. “You need sleep, Fivey.’

“I don’t have time to sleep.”

“Not sleeping makes you more homicidal than usual.” And when his brother snorted, he took it as a victory. Then, he reached over and pulled a pillow to prop himself up. Five reorientated his room at some point; judging by all the random scribbling on  _ every  _ wall, he changed it to get more space to work this out. The side of his bed brushed up against the wall while everyone else had theirs jutting out into the room. It meant Ben could make a corner between the backboard and the wall, though, and he nuzzled himself in there, letting his exhaustion wash over him.

When Five didn’t say anything for a few seconds, returning to his work, Ben ventured a guess. “I have a dumb question.”

“What?” 

“Can you, uh, explain time travel to me?” Because that was what Five was doing, wasn’t it? He only had… Six days remaining? And any work he could’ve gotten done got squashed by their father drugging him. The Horror buzzed at the thought, ready to lash out again, and he groaned and hugged himself tighter.

Five bent down, grabbed a plastic cup holding the rest of his black Sharpies, and chucked it at Ben’s face. It bounced off his cheek, and Ben moaned and reached up to cup the spot. Then, he tried a toothy smile before collecting everything again. “Not much of a night person, huh?”

“Why didn’t you dodge?” he grumbled.

Ben shrugged. “Years of—”

_ Of being Klaus’s ghost meant Klaus threw stuff almost weekly. And it always passed through him harmlessly, so his instinct must’ve eroded at some point. _

“Years of?”

“Tell me about time travel,” he said instead of answering.

“You can’t… You can’t just  _ ask  _ about time travel. There are layers and layers of it!” Five made a face at him, and it was just so…  _ Five,  _ it made Ben burst out laughing. His brother never changed, no matter how old he was. “If you want to know something, you either need to educate yourself, or ask something more specific—” 

“Okay… Say you travelled back in time—” 

“You can’t.” Five rolled his eyes and resumed his newest string of numbers.

Ben furrowed his brow. “What? If you can travel forward, you can travel back—” 

“No, you can’t. You can travel  _ forward  _ because there won’t be a version of you there. Or, because you’re travelling forward, your future self will know  _ not  _ to be there at that moment. I know you can’t exist in close proximity to yourself, but I haven’t figured out how close yet…” Trailing off, his gaze swept across the wall right overhead. Then, he shook his head and reached up, bunching up his hair. “But you can’t time travel backwards because then, you’d have to project your consciousness into your  _ past  _ consciousness and… And, like, merge them into one. Which will fuck you up. Like, a lot. I bet it’d drive you insane. And then, you’d mess up the timeline, and since time is linear, you could end up fucking everything up.”

Did that mean Five was insane when he returned from the future? He knew his little brother was  _ traumatized,  _ but he couldn’t blame him. He’d seen Klaus get into bad situation after situation, and every time he saw his brother lying there, unmoving, he felt like he died all over again. He’d rather die again and again than let any of his siblings go the same way. They deserved long lives.

Did that mean Ben was insane right  _ now?  _ He knew he changed, and he knew he couldn’t fit as neatly into the family anymore. He had years on them… Possibly. He didn’t know if ghost years counted. At the very least, he still had three years on their thirteen-year-old selves.

According to the Handler, his presence already started screwing things up. He fiddled with a design on the blanket, not wanting to look at Five anymore. “And you still want to time travel?”

“I… What?”

“You’re not exactly hiding it.”

“Well… I mean, I’d travel to the future. And I haven’t perfected it yet, but I think in a few days, I’ll have it good enough to experiment with it.” Even without looking up, he could tell his brother grinned with satisfaction. 

And he hated he would be the one who killed that joy for a reason he couldn’t explain. “Maybe time travel isn’t the best idea.”

“Seriously? You’re so wishy-washy these days.” 

Ben’s heart clenched, and he thought he might start crying. Instead, he scrubbed at his face and forced himself to continue. And he couldn’t give himself away. If he came out and said he time travelled, Five would either think he was messing with him and kick him out or think he  _ actually  _ went insane. “Well, if you jump forward, then you can’t jump backwards. And wouldn’t you be stranded? And what if you wouldn’t be able to return home? Then you’d have to grow up alone, away from everyone else and—”

“Is this seriously about you not wanting me to leave?” Five scowled at him. “Who are you kidding, Ben? Nobody likes each other in this family—Hell, you can’t even  _ call  _ it a family. We’re all just kids their parents sold to a psychopath—”

“I love everyone in this family,” he blurted out, unable to stomach the rest of that sentence.

Five sat down on his desk and leaned forward, never breaking eye contact. “Then, you’re the biggest fool in this family. Do you think anyone would come for you if you got hurt? Do you think anyone has your back? Do you think, once we all turn eighteen, any of us are going to stay together—”

_ He never turned eighteen. _

Vanya’s book rang out in his memories as the Horror stabbed him, and he gasped for breath, recoiling backwards.  _ ‘The family fell apart with our brother’s death. They—We—were never able to recover, not without his presence there.’ _

“Ben?” Five’s face shifted dramatically as Ben wrapped his arms tight around his stomach, hyperventilating. “Ben, what’s wrong?”

The Horror roared, fighting against him, trying to get out. 

He wheezed.

_ ‘Though sometimes, I wonder if that is fair. Can we blame the disappearing act of our family on Ben? He, truly, was the only one who clung to it. Our family disintegrated bit by bit since the day Sir Reginald Hargreeves adopted us. We never really understood how to be a family, and I wonder sometimes if any of us cared for anyone other than ourselves (and perhaps Ben and Five. After witnessing the way my siblings fell apart, crying and mourning, it’d be unfair to deny them of that). They are some of the most selfish individuals I ever met.’ _

When Five approached him, cautiously, Ben reached out and shoved him into a hug. Five gasped as the Horror still pushed against him, starting to emerge from his stomach, but when it felt Five, it calmed down. It wouldn’t do anything to hurt his brother, and coming out right now would do just that.

He pressed his face into his shoulder. “We’re a  _ family.  _ Okay?”

“Ben, what’s going on with the Horror?” Five whispered, forever the brother who needed to fix everything. Forever the one terrified of losing someone. Despite the speech he just made, Five still gripped at him, hands clawing into his back in a desperate attempt to keep Ben from falling apart.

The Horror settled down, and he let out a sigh. “I… I don’t know. It’s…”

_ Broken. _

_ Lost.  _

_ Dying. _

_ Out of time.  _

“I don’t know,” he said instead. 

-

Today might be the only day he wished they separated Vanya. Instead, as they all gathered in the library for their lessons, his sister kept shooting him looks. She wanted an explanation, and he didn’t know how to begin. He never meant to slip like that, and instead, he now had to deal with one of the biggest problems from the past.

_ ‘Hi, Vanya, you have powers. Oh, how do I know? Well, I promise I haven’t been keeping it from you, I just found out myself… How? Because I time travelled back from the future—No, I promise I’m not lying!’ _

Ben resisted the urge to slam his head on the table.

As he hesitated by the bookshelf, fishing out a textbook on calculus, he tried to gauge which sibling to sit with. He needed to spend as much time with them as possible. He wanted to hear Luther’s laugh, catch Diego’s eye, see Allison’s smile, mess with Klaus, get Five to lose some of the tension in his shoulders, and close the distance with Vanya. He wanted to bask in his family again.

He… Missed them.

He missed interacting with them because Klaus never was a very good medium. Half the time he saw his siblings with Klaus around, his brother was too high and his siblings were too angry to get the message across. Half the words he wanted to say disappeared forever.

But he’d get the little moments back this way. He’d get to hold Claire for the first time. He’d get to see Allison walk down the aisle. He’d get to see his brothers live an actual life— _ he’d  _ get to live an actual life, and this time around, he’d have his brothers on either side of him.

He could spend his whole life with them, and it still wouldn’t be enough. 

He shook himself as he realized he was still staring, and he found his way to Luther and Allison instead. Both of them startled, not expecting anyone else to join them, but he started talking before they could kick him out. “I’m so sorry about what happened yesterday—”

“Ben,” Luther said, cutting him off in that authoritative way of his.  _ He was Number One.  _ “It’s all good. It’s not your fault.”

“It doesn’t mean I can’t be sorry. You’re not… Hurt, right?” He studied Luther. He was never one to hide his injuries though.

His brother grinned. “Do you think a little bookcase could stop me?”

“Oh, God.” Allison gagged dramatically. “I can’t handle your manliness right now.”

“So you  _ do  _ think I’m a man!”

She glanced at Ben as if to show him what she had to put up with. He laughed. 

_ He missed them so much, it hurt to express.  _ He wanted to wrap both of them up in hugs, he wanted to spend every free moment with them. He wanted to ask Luther if he liked astronomy, wanted to see if that already started. He wanted to watch movies with Allison, in secret of course.

He wanted to be a family again. And this time, they wouldn’t need a dead father or an apocalypse to unite them. They could just be…  _ Themselves,  _ and wasn’t that a crazy thought? Ben could be Ben without strings attached. He wouldn’t be a ghost, he wouldn’t be traumatized by a death none of his siblings could voice, he wouldn’t be anything other than Ben Hargreeves, the sixth child out of seven.

“What are you thinking about?” Allison asked. 

He swallowed down his smile. “Nothing much. Just… Derivatives, I guess.”

“Derivatives make you smile like that? Must be some sexy numbers.” She let out a low whistle, and he almost choked. Luther  _ did  _ choke.

Ben recovered fast enough. He spent years with Klaus. “Any chance you can help me work out this problem? God knows you’re good at math.”

Allison, though reluctant to admit it, always excelled in math. Sure, she couldn’t compete with Five, but nobody expected her to want to. Five  _ enjoyed  _ spending hours manipulating stuffy equations. She did the bare minimum and managed to pass with flying colors. 

Once, a tabloid came out questioning Allison’s schooling. After all, since she was a celebrity, everyone thought they could gossip about her. They wrote that they thought she cheated her way through high school and should be properly questioned. After all, she probably used a combination of her Rumors and her father’s homeschooling to make sure she got her degree.

She never went to college, but he saw her throughout high school. He  _ knew  _ she earned every grade she got.

She nodded, trying to put off the air of indifference. “Of course… Though I thought you’d go to Klaus first.”

“Klaus?” He snorted. “Klaus doesn’t know how to count.”

“Hey!” cried his brother from the opposite side of the room. “I know how to count to  _ at least  _ ten.”

“He can’t count to eleven because he runs out of fingers,” Ben finished in a low voice, too soft for him to hear, but getting a smile out of both Luther and Allison.

Something hit him, and he turned around to see Klaus getting ready to throw another pencil. As Ben went to respond, Pogo cleared his throat from the front of the room, clearly amused by this.

Something glazed over in Ben as he studied Pogo—how was he supposed to treat the monkey-turned-butler-turned-surrogate-father? They all operated under Reginald’s thumb, and not only was he a father of sorts to him, but he  _ created  _ Pogo. Without Reginald, he’d never be able to exist. Not in this capacity.

But this was the same man who knew Vanya had powers and allowed her to fester in her isolation and jealousy anyway. This was the same man who knew the moon mission was pointless. This was the same man who turned his cheek when Reginald decided it’d be  _ reasonable  _ to kill himself.

Something must’ve given him away on his face because Klaus mouthed  _ ‘are you okay?’  _ He flashed a thumbs up and returned to his oldest siblings.

Luther let out a heavy sigh as he set about erasing his work on the page. “I just… Don’t understand this. I’m too dumb.”

“You’re not,” Allison said without skipping a beat, a sort of familiarity he didn’t recognize. How many times did they have this conversation, just a table away, and Ben was too caught up with sneaking pages of whatever book he was reading at the time?

He pointed down at the sheet, hard enough to snap the lead of his pencil. When he flinched away, Allison leant in and placed her hand on top of his, squeezing slightly. “It just doesn’t make sense, Alli. Like… I’m just not cut out for this. How am I supposed to know when to flip the signs?”

“Why don’t you show me your notes again? Or… How about I show you mine?” Allison reached down, pulling out her own binder of notes. She doodled swirls and hearts in the margins, all bright and colorful with pens he  _ knew  _ she smuggled in. Reginald would never buy them something that excessive.

Ben glanced over at Luther’s notes. His were a smeared mess, frantically squeezed in at the last second. He knew Pogo moved fast with the lessons. After all, when you only taught seven kids and half of them might as well be certified prodigies, why would you need to slow down? And for the first time, a pang of guilt rattled through Ben. He never once considered asking Pogo to take it slower. If anything, he wanted to go faster. The sooner he finished the lessons, the sooner he could do anything else.

He wondered how alone that made Luther feel. He felt stupid in comparison to Five and Allison, sometimes, and Ben knew he was a top contender for intelligence. And they belittled Luther and Diego at every opportunity…

“I don’t get it either,” Ben blurted out after a few seconds.

Luther’s head snapped up. “Ben, you don’t have to—”

“I’m serious. I can’t… I can’t retain it, I guess? I can do it with my notes next to me, but the second they’re gone, I have no clue what I’m doing.” And it wasn’t a lie. Solving the problems based on his own decayed knowledge proved to be a huge problem. Who could’ve known they should’ve buried the coffin with his math notes? At least then, it wouldn’t have been quite so empty.

Allison studied him as subtly as she could, but her pursed lips gave her away. He knew that look after years of watching her. She made that face when she spoke to agents, trying to figure out what they wanted from her. She made that face when she spoke to the press, trying to keep the upper hand. She made that face when one of the others made a judgment call she didn’t agree with. If she could, he thought she would crack open the world and reconstruct it in a way she could make sense of.

Luther huffed out a laugh, trying to play it cool. His brother was always too awkward to pull that one-off, though. “Really?”

“Really… Sometimes, I read the textbook, so I can get the topic better.” He didn’t do that for  _ years  _ at this point. When he was younger, desperate to learn in any way he could, he used to absorb himself in the textbooks until he could explain every math concept.

Then, he realized Reginald would never let them go, not really, and he stopped trying. He’d be in the Umbrella Academy for the rest of his life, so he might as well pursue the knowledge he wanted. Venturing out in the real world meant everyone would brand him as a monster, unable to see past the Horror in his past.

Allison offered a tight smile, still trying to figure out his motives. He flashed his own smile back, trying to smooth her ruffled feathers. “Well, that’s good for you, Ben, but I really know how to teach Luther. We’ve been working together for a long time—”

“I know! And you’re a genius!” When she blushed at the flattery, he pressed onwards. “Sometimes, it helps to get a fresh perspective. I’m not trying to break you guys up—”

“We’re not dating!” yelped Luther, loud enough to attract the attention of everyone in the room.

Allison swatted at him, gritting her teeth. Then, she took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. “I know. I’m just… A little protective, I guess. It’s nice to be the go-to math tutor, you know?”

“Trust me. Nobody will be coming to me for math help.” And he busied himself in his math notes, flipping to the first spare page possible before tearing off the corner. Her eyes went wide as he made a note and slid it across the table, trying to be as subtle as possible. While he doubted Pogo would stop him, sometimes, Pogo reported them to Reginald for goofing off in lessons, and he couldn’t handle any more specialized training.

He… Never learned what Luther and Allison’s special training was. He knew Diego got trapped in the tanks, Klaus got sent to the mausoleum, and Five teleported until he couldn’t see straight. He knew they poked and prodded at the Horror most of the time, sometimes trying to expand the portal. But those two? Their powers felt like they couldn’t really be honed individually—all of the strength training would benefit Luther in the same way.

The second he slid the note over, Allison slipped it in her sleeve and unfolded it beneath the table. When she looked up, her eyes were twinkling. “Ben, I forgot how much fun you are.”

“What does it say?” Luther tried to spot it over her shoulder, but she shifted to block it. 

Then, her eyes slid towards Klaus and back to Ben. “Do you have the goods?”

“The goods? Are you guys smuggling something in? Or are you sneaking out?” To his credit, he tried to whisper it. Ben was pretty sure Pogo was being kind enough to ignore the whole conversation though. 

He winked at her. 

When Luther started to pout, Allison nudged him gently. “You wouldn’t want to know. If you haven’t noticed, you’re a bit of a snitch.”

“I’m not a snitch!”

“You’re the biggest snitch in the room,” Ben said solemnly, struggling to keep a deadpan expression. He reached across the table and put his hand on Luther’s, ignoring the thrill which rushed through his veins. Being able to reach out like this, being this close… He missed it. And while he wished his siblings remembered the future, it was nice they didn’t look at him like something missing. Here, he never became the one who broke the family into pieces. “It’s okay, you can get through this.”

Allison wheezed out a laugh before covering her mouth, trying to straighten and be as ladylike as possible. “So, is it a plan? Is your twin going to come along?”

“My twin?”

“Oh, come on. Don’t pretend you don’t know who I’m talking about.”

“Well, I was thinking my twin and someone else.” He slid his gaze over to Vanya. She wouldn’t ask about it in a larger group,  _ especially  _ one with Allison around. He never understood their relationship, and he especially didn’t understand it when they were this young. It was as if they both wanted to impress each other by not caring about what the other one did. 

Allison’s brow furrowed, and she considered. Then, she nodded. “The more the merrier. Minus you, Lulu.”

“What are you  _ doing?”  _ Luther asked, trying to hide his disappointment.

Ben grinned. “Think of it this way. Now, you can have quality time with Five and Diego!”

Luther looked like he wanted to die on the spot. He’d find a way to hang out with his brother in the future, but right now, he needed to get Vanya connected with the rest of the family.

-

The selection was worse than he remembered, but he guessed nothing could live up to their age of rebellion when they were twelve. When Klaus broke his jaw and couldn’t speak, Allison and Ben kept sneaking out of the house to get little things which would make him feel better. Nail polish and face masks and eyeliner, and while Ben never really liked it, it’d get Klaus to give a genuine, if a little mangled, smile.

Allison hummed as she started to set up the magazines on the floor, all of them tabloids about the family. Ben leant forward, trying to catch the names of a few. Most of them were trashy, but it made Allison laugh to compare it to their real lives. Everyone else cringed away from the rumors spread about them, but she always was one to face everything head-on. It’s why she handled press conferences so much better.

“Ben…” Vanya still stared at him, trying to find the words.

Klaus saved him. “Van, can I braid your hair?”

“W-what?”

“And the bangs… I don’t think I’m a fan of them. Maybe we could let them grow out next time!” Without waiting for her answer, he slid behind her and snatched a stray scrunchie off the floor. They always did this in Allison’s room because she kept all of the supplies. If Reginald found nail polish in one of the boy’s rooms, Ben was sure there’d be hell to pay.

Vanya went bright red. “I mean… I guess I can think about it? But Ben—”

“Ben doesn’t have long enough hair to braid. I think, when I’m older, I’m going to grow out my own hair. What do you think?” Klaus reached up and tugged at his hair, and Ben laughed and shook his head. While his short hair coupled with his dark eyes always made him look a little manic, he liked the look on Klaus. 

Ben needed to find some product. Being dead meant he never needed to style his hair again, but every once and awhile, Klaus would convince him to mess it up and try and fix it. After all, Klaus couldn’t touch it… The only person who could interact with Ben  _ was  _ Ben. They’d learned other ghosts didn’t really see him once, and he always wondered why death was too good of a fate for him.

Allison tugged on her hair, considering. “I think mine would look good straight, but I don’t know how I could sneak that in.”

“It’d look good ombre,” Ben offered. She tried it out when she had Claire the first time, trying to distract people from her weight gain. He always wanted to tell her nobody focused on that. His sister was a star in every way, and to think of herself as anything else was one of the highest insults.

It took him a few seconds to notice them all gawking. He threw his hands up in mock surrender. “What?”

“What’s ombre hair?” Klaus said after a few seconds. “And could I pull it off?”

_ Oh.  _ Was that not… A thing yet? He just assumed… Well, Ben didn’t keep track of fashion trends coming in and out of existence. He ducked his head, laughing sheepishly. “I must’ve read it somewhere.”

“In one of your pornos,” Allison suggested, making Vanya choke.

Ben felt the heat swell in his cheeks as Klaus started to wheeze. “They’re not pornos!”

“What are you talking about?” Vanya asked, eyes wide.

Allison gestured towards his room as if they could see it. “All of those novels he refuses to let any of us read. He always buys them with his stipends.”

“Did you know,” Klaus said dramatically, “Ben  _ loves  _ a good love story? Or, dare I say, a sexy love story?”

“They’re not—”

“They’re pretty explicit,” Allison cut him off again. Ben pouted as he tried to butt in, but Klaus’s laughter drowned him out. She seized her opportunity. “You never would’ve known how good of a poker face Ben had until you caught some of the stuff he reads. Honestly, he reads sex scenes  _ at the dinner table.  _ With Dad  _ right there.” _

“You do what?”

“They’re necessary to progress the story along!”

“Are they though?” Dropping his voice, Klaus scooted in to stage-whisper to Vanya. Ben started looking around for something to throw at him. “I’m just saying, our brother is a bit of a voyeur.”

“I’m not!”

“Ben!” Vanya’s head snapped towards him, cheeks going bright red. “That’s—”

“Kinky? I know.” Klaus winked. Ben flipped him off before burying his face in his arms, trying to hide his embarrassment. Allison tried to stop cackling, and Vanya still stared at him like he betrayed her. “Ben’s going to be the first one to get a kiss… Or is Allison going to beat him to the punch with a certain  _ someone?” _

“Oh, shut up! We’re not like that!” Allison reached over and slapped Klaus.

He gasped. “Oh no! Does our dear Lulu know you feel that way?”

“You have a crush on  _ Luther?”  _ Vanya’s eyes flit back and forth between their siblings, trying to figure out what to question first. 

Klaus nudged her. “Hey, chill out. Someone’s feeling  _ mighty  _ tense… Wait. Wait, can I give you a massage?”

“No,” Allison and Ben said at the same time.

Klaus pouted, but Vanya laughed quietly and tried to relax her shoulders. Allison grabbed her hands and pulled them forward, placing them on a magazine with only the six of them on the front. Ben bit his lip as Vanya stared at it for a few seconds. Then, she looked away, the mood killed. Neither of them noticed.

Even when they included her, it was so obvious she didn’t fit in with them. She didn’t spend all of her free time training, and she missed out on most of the free time. She didn’t see the way Luther blushed when he spent time with Allison (which Ben didn’t intend to address, ever), and she didn’t get all of the inside jokes.

“Pick a color,” Allison said, and her grip softened on Vanya’s a little. “We can match each other.”

“Really?” Vanya cringed at how eager her voice sounded and cleared her throat, attempting to deepen it. “Yeah… What color do you want, Allison? I’m… I don’t really do this kind of thing, and you’re always so much better at coordinating colors, you know?”

Klaus perked up as he neared the end of the elaborate, and messy, French braid. Ben raised an eyebrow, and he stuck out his tongue. “Does that mean I get to pick the color? I’m even better than Allison is, promise.”

“Uh, no. I’m picking… You can paint Ben’s nails.” Her eyes sparkled mischievously. 

He shook his head. “Uh, I was just going to do clear—”

Allison reached over and grabbed the clear polish, tossing it underneath her bed. “What clear polish?”

“The one under your—”

“I’m thinking bright red. It’s sexy, and everyone knows you love that.” Klaus paused, staring at the ends of Vanya’s dark hair. “Allison, do you have a scrunchie I can borrow? Like, a nice one?”

“All of my scrunchies are nice.” Allison let go of Vanya as she went back to her vanity, snatching one of the stray scrunchies and slingshotting it at Klaus. It went over his shoulder and slapped against the wall.

Ben laughed. “Are you sure you don’t have Diego’s aim?”

She slingshotted another one into his face, and she grinned. “What was that, Ben?”

“Nothing, ma’am.” And when she scowled at him, he laughed again. She hated when people called her ma’am—she  _ still  _ did as an adult. Allison always insisted it made her feel old and out of touch with their generation, and Ben always struggled not to laugh when they were younger. Who would say something like that when they were  _ clearly  _ kids?

Well, Five might’ve in the future, but Five doesn’t count, not really. Five was an old man stuffed into a child’s body.

Allison stomped back to them, and she snatched up a glossy black bottle. “It might be a little emo, but I want to try and do polka dots this time. Next time, we can do something more fun like pink… But you’ve never really seemed like a pink girl.”

“Next time?” Vanya’s voice wavered.

Allison froze before snorting. “Uh, yeah. Klaus likes having Ben do his for no reason because Ben’s hands shake  _ so much.” _

“I couldn’t work at a salon,” he said mournfully as they shuffled to face off in pairs. When he got across from Klaus, his brother beamed and tossed the red bottle in his face. “Oh, am I starting us off?”

“We need to finish strong, not begin strong.” He winked again, and Ben rolled his eyes.

As he grabbed a magazine, Klaus suddenly snatched it away from him and started flipping through the pages. Ben scoffed and leant back, waiting for his brother to find whatever he wanted. Then, he held up the page, giddy. “They  _ ranked  _ us.”

“Let me guess, Luther is the dreamboat.” Ben took the magazine back and pressed his brother’s cold hands against the pages (and Klaus’s hands were  _ always  _ cold. They used to joke that they felt like death). 

Klaus hummed as Ben started to paint his nails, his hands already shaking. “Actually, I think Five won this time. Everyone always loves Five.”

“He’s a sweetheart,” Vanya said.

Allison snorted. “Have you met him? He’d murder all of us if it meant he could get an extra cup of coffee.”

“Still.”

“Still? You have a low bar.” Klaus giggled. “Next one is Luther.  _ ‘Who doesn’t like a strong man in uniform?’” _

“I’m going to puke,” Ben said seriously.

Klaus nodded. “Don’t do it on me.”

“What do they mean  _ in uniform?  _ Like, in these?” Allison rolled her eyes. “These are the most unattractive things in existence. The knee socks were  _ such  _ a bad choice—If I never wore them again, it’d be too soon.”

“The shoes are gross too. Like…” Ben’s lips twitched into a smile, and he accidentally brushed a streak of red up Klaus’s middle finger. “Like bowling shoes.”

“Have you ever been bowling?” Vanya asked.

He shook his head. “No, but it’s just throwing things. I bet Diego would be great at it.”

“Do bowling balls count as projectiles? Hey, wait, why am I  _ last  _ on this list?” Klaus pouted down at it. “This is actual abuse.”

“The public has spoken, Klaus,” Allison said in all her wisdom, “you’re officially the least attractive.”

“You and Vanya didn’t even get ranked.” 

“Yeah, but you’re below me. That’s pretty bad.” Ben grinned when Klaus laughed.

Klaus reached out with the unpainted hand. “Hey, I’d date you in a second, Benny Boo. You seem like you’d know how to treat a man… But then, we’d be too much like Allison and Luther, and I’d hate that—”

“Klaus, shut  _ up!” _

And over their laughter, they didn’t hear the footsteps down the hallway. They didn’t hear the knob turning. They didn’t hear the door swing open. 

But they heard Reginald’s sharp, cutting voice.

“Children! What is the meaning of this? You are meant to be studying for the next exam, not further addling your brains with the fumes of this impractical hobby!” Reginald banged his cane down, and Klaus flinched away from him, the nail polish leaving a bloody red streak on the back of his hand.

Ben shifted, trying to hide them behind him, but Allison spoke first. “We’re sorry, sir—”

“I know you are not to blame for this. The fault is, as always, with Number Four. He is the one who always insists upon these things.” He loomed over them, his shadow darker than anything else Ben encountered. Klaus started trembling behind him. “Lucky for us, I know how to rectify his little acts of rebellion.”

Ben shook his head. “It was my idea—”

“Please, Number Six. We both know you aren’t one for nail polish.” He stepped forward. “Step aside from Number Four. I need to deposit him in the mausoleum.”

“No, no, p-please—”

“It’s my fault!” Ben insisted.

Reginald looked past him. “Then perhaps this will be a good lesson for you as well. If you care so much for your brother, you will stop putting him in such compromising situations if you truly were the one who came up with this.”

“It  _ was  _ me—Punish me!”

“Currently, he will spend three hours for the three siblings he distracted. Would you like to add to that time? Step aside.” His eyes flashed.

Ben reached back blindly, searching for his brother’s hand. “It’s not his fault—”

“Four hours. Would you like to make it five?”

“Ben, move,” Klaus mumbled.

Ben hesitated before shimmying aside, trying to get to Allison. Klaus stumbled to his feet, eyes wide and vacant, resigned. Only his trembling hands gave him away, terrified of this punishment.

He leant in. “Allison, stop him.”

“Ben—”

“Isn’t the point of your power,” he begged, “to help people?”

Vanya’s eyes were wide, stunned, as she took in their father. 

Allison started shaking her head. “Ben, I can’t—”

“Come along, Number Four.”

_ “Please.” _

She hesitated. Then, she sprang to her feet with a soft curse.  _ “I heard a rumor—” _

_ Crack. _

Allison stumbled back with a cry, clutching at her jaw where the cane struck her. Ben started to get up, but Vanya grabbed his wrist right as the Horror started to peek out. She shook her head, eyes wide and desperate, and Klaus repeated the gesture. He shoved his hands against his stomach, physically restraining it, but he couldn’t stop the soft cry of frustration, of anger, as Allison rubbed at her face.

He had no right. He had no right to touch either of his siblings like that, and they couldn’t just  _ let  _ him treat them like that. He couldn’t—

“Breathe,” Vanya murmured in his ear. 

Klaus braved a smile for Ben, and his heartbeat drowned out his thoughts.

And as his brother waved goodbye and let his hand flop back to his side, all he could see was the red streak he left behind.

-

Every time Klaus returned from the mausoleum, he came back changed. A little more haunted, a little more desperate. When the visits first started up, one of them could talk him down from whatever substance he wanted to use at that moment. Now, though, he came back and found the easiest, fastest way to get high or drunk with little regard to what it’d do to the rest of his body.

Ben’s tempting fate by sneaking into Klaus’s room. Pogo and Grace will probably spontaneously check in on him and if caught outside of his room, he knew Reginald would add hours to Klaus in the mausoleum. He laid there, unable to sleep, unable to breathe, running the scenarios against each other over and over.

If he stayed in his room, Klaus would probably get high off his tits and still be coming down in the morning, which might just lead to another session, and it might just lead to the addiction he  _ knew  _ his brother would fight with for the rest of his life.

And if he left his room, he could sentence Klaus to a worse fate, and then Klaus would have more of a reason to want to get that high, and maybe, just maybe, his brother would actually hate him. 

Reginald’s good like that, making sure they were too terrified to act out against him. The reason Five could rebel again and again was because he was closest to Vanya, and he’d never hurt Vanya  _ (or he could only hurt Vanya by making sure she never felt like she was part of the family). _

Yet, Ben got up anyway. They could survive Reginald. Most of them did it before, even if it wasn’t necessarily unscathed. Even if they spent the rest of their lives looking over their shoulders. The addiction plagued Klaus worse than anything else. No matter what he did, he couldn’t kick it.

He tiptoed down the hallway and tried to hide his panic when the door creaked as it swung open. He forgot it did that. But when nobody stirred in the house, he let out a deep breath and then pushed his way in. 

Fumbling around in the darkness, he yanked a fuzzy blanket off his bed, and then he crammed it against the crack in the door. Then, he groped for the light switch. When the yellowish light flickered on overhead, something in his heart froze as he took in the room. 

His brother was so  _ young.  _

He almost couldn’t recognize his brother here. Not this organized, not this put together. Klaus kept his room relatively plain. Later on, months before Ben died, he’d buy a ton of rugs to try and make it seem livelier. Once, he told Ben his room always reminded him of a coffin. Then, he denied ever saying that and asked Ben if  _ he  _ was the one who got high.

Ben got to his knees, trying to find the loose floorboard. He should be able to remember which one his brother favored, but he didn’t know all of the minute details as well as he thought. 

Right as he found one which creaked under his weight, something caught his eye from underneath the bed. Klaus made it beforehand, but he kept his blanket drooping off the side. When he pushed to the side, Ben sucked in a breath.  _ Oh.  _ He… He somehow forgot about this part.

His brother always loved wearing weird shit—he’d pick up a fur coat from the garbage or find sunglasses shaped like guitars. No matter how horrible they looked, Klaus wanted to put them on. He wouldn’t be shocked if his brother enjoyed wearing the bowling shoes for the end of the world. It seemed on-brand for him.

A pair of pink heels were pushed to the back. When Ben crawled underneath, he tried to study them. He knew these— _ Oh, he knew how he knew these.  _ These were the ones he wore when he broke his jaw. And a much younger Ben thought to himself the pink matched the way Klaus’s face went pink. Then, he was rushing to his brother’s side, shaking himself out of the horror.

A purple feather boa hung from the wiring underneath the bed. When he twisted around, he couldn’t stop his smile. This belonged to Allison. He remembered she threw a tantrum when she found out he had it. The smile faded when he remembered it ending with Allison Rumoring Klaus.  _ (I heard a rumor you left me the hell alone!)  _ They didn’t speak for three days before Allison realized her Rumor made her practically invisible to Klaus.

And scribbled on the underside of the mattress, Klaus started to write and draw tattoo ideas. A few attempts at transforming the Umbrella Academy logo. A strange design he still didn’t quite get he’d get on his stomach later on. A quote in a different language Ben couldn’t translate anymore. No hello-goodbye hands yet, but he knew Klaus would stumble upon that idea eventually.

Ben took a second, breathing in his brother’s scent and inside all of his creativity. One day, Klaus could be all of these things out loud, in person. One day, he’d wear his favorite clothing no matter how weird the combos were. He’d flash his Goodbye hand at anyone who upset him. His brother would be himself, unabashed and proud. 

And Ben would be thrilled to see that happen. 

He rolled out from under the bed and left it behind. Then, he went back to the loose floorboard and pried it up. Sure enough, he found a few joints ready to be smoked, a lighter, and a key to their father’s wine cellar. He  _ knew  _ Klaus smuggled more alcohol these days, though. If his brother had—

The door creaked, and Ben froze.

“Klaus?” Diego mumbled, rubbing at his eyes. He stared down at the blanket for a few moments, confused why it wouldn’t push open. Then, he paused, blinking at Ben. “Oh. It’s you.”

“It’s me.” Ben slipped the wine cellar key around his neck. 

Diego noticed the joints and paused. “Are you… Taking up smoking?”

“Nope! Not exactly my style…” He giggled nervously, shoving all of the joints in one hand before getting to his feet. He’d leave the lighter behind. It was decorated with an almost lewd image, and he didn’t want to deal with that. “I’m worried about him.”

His brother pulled a face as if he might run away. 

Ben grinned. “Sorry, I forgot, you don’t like emotions.”

“I’m fine with emotions. It’s just… A little extreme, you know? He slacks a little on training, but it’s training.” He looked away. Then, after a few seconds, he made his way to the dresser and pulled open the bottom drawer. As he shuffled through the shorts, he tossed them aside until he could pull out a bottle of vodka. “He told me about this one by accident.”

“Thank you… Pass it over?” Ben gestured with the joints, and Diego reluctantly gave it over. He threw open the window and reached out, pouring the rest of the vodka onto the grass below. There was  _ no way  _ they could get away with going to the bathroom right now, and somehow, he doubted his brother would let him out of eyeshot.

As he crammed the cigarettes into the empty plastic bottle, Diego cleared his throat. “Do you really think this is going to help him? He’s an addict—”

“He’s not an addict yet—”

“From what I’ve heard, the second you take your first sip, you become an addict.” Diego eased down on the bed. “It might be too late for him—”

“It’s not. He’s… He’s our brother.” And the words failed him, but Ben knew they couldn’t give up on him. Fine, Klaus might already have a problem. He smoked and drank too much, he popped too many— 

He stared at Diego, wide-eyed. “I need you to cut open his mattress.”

“You need to  _ what?” _

“You have a knife on you, don’t you?” 

Diego hesitated, and Ben gawked at him. Then, his brother reached down and hiked up his pajama pants, pulling out a thin knife. “I’m going to need an explanation, Ben. I don’t really get what’s going on with you.”

“You want to talk about feelings?” he teased, getting up and dragging his brother towards the bed. When his brother scowled, he softened. “Hey, we’re the sane ones in the family, remember? Everyone else is absolutely insane.”

“Being the sane ones isn’t a high bar.”

“Ouch. But true.” He took a deep breath. “Klaus hides his pill bottles in his mattress and sews it back up.”

“That’s… A lot of effort.”

“We found them anyway.” And sure, he might have only found them because he time travelled, but Klaus didn’t need to know that. “I never thought I’d need to convince you to cut something. I thought you loved your knives.”

“I do—” He huffed before leaning over, starting to tear it open. After a few seconds, he paused before fishing out three pill bottles. “Here, catch.”

“Can’t you curve it into my hand?” Still, he held out both hands expectedly. 

Diego winked. “That’s the fun part.”

As the pill bottles hit, he grinned. These ones he wouldn’t be able to dump out the window. He’d flush them down the toilet as soon as he could get away with it. “I think that’s everything.”

“Is there a specific reason you’re doing this today?”

“Klaus is down at the mausoleum, and…” He made a vague hand gesture, but Diego nodded, face twisting in sympathy. “I hate those ghosts, you know. I just wish we could keep them away from him. He might be a little bit of an ass, but he doesn’t deserve it. What I would give to not have powers.”

“I would hate to be powerless.” His brother stared at the collection Ben balanced in his arms. “We have the ability to  _ help  _ people, and no matter what happens, nobody else can do what we do. So we have the responsibility too.”

“What good is seeing the dead?”

“Then nobody will ever leave you.”

“But the dead get left behind.” He hesitated. “Ghosts can’t really interact with anyone but Klaus.”

“Klaus could try and materialize people, though. You could get to say  _ goodbye.”  _ And Diego spoke with the passion of someone who lost someone. But the only person he could think of was Patch, and he didn’t even know Patch existed yet.

Ben hesitated before reaching out anyway. “Are you okay—”

“This is about Klaus. Let’s just… Make sure we didn’t miss anything.”

“Diego…”

“Ben.”

They worked in silence for a few minutes before Diego sighed. “Do you ever think about all those people we couldn’t save on the m-missions? The civilians and the people we knew and the tutors we knew… Wouldn’t you want to apologize? Fulfill their final wishes?”

“I... “ He remembered hearing some of the requests ghosts made towards Klaus. They begged for him to say goodbye to their families for him, they begged for him to tell their stories, they begged for him to bring justice. “You can have Klaus’s abilities if you really think it’s a good thing. I don’t think I could survive with the guilt.”

Because Klaus retreated into his pills with his guilt.

Ben just retreated.

Diego shrugged. “I’d like to think I could handle it better.”

“Klaus might be a dick, but he’s doing his best.”

Diego paused, taking in Ben’s expression. Then, a smile twitched on his face. “When did you become the biggest advocate for family?”

“Since I realized what it’d mean if I lost you guys… I… I don’t want to lose you.”  _ Again. _

-

When he snuck back into his room, he found his notebook on top of his bed with a sticky note with scribbled handwriting.

**We need to talk**

**\- Five**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all for the kind comments!!!
> 
> (also, i in no way ship luther and allison, i'm trying to stay close to canon though haha i promise they will NOT end up together (there probably won't be any romantic relationships!!))


	4. all that the phantom asked of you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “And I have trained and prepared you for that very situation. As long as you cooperate as a team and use your powers, I see no reason it should fail. Number One, what is the game plan upon arriving at the warehouse?”
> 
> It was a warehouse? Ben almost wished they went to a museum or some kind of store. He wanted to see everything he missed again.
> 
> But it was a warehouse, which meant dark and dusty and cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW @ "Ben stood on top of the box, and he finally let the Horror out." - I wouldn't say it's super graphic violence, but it's meant to be violent there. Read at your own risk, and do what's best for you :). I went back and forth with how descriptive I wanted to be, but I ultimately went with how much I think Ben would focus on. It's violent enough it'd scar him into the future, like it's been shown the Horror DOES, but it's not needlessly (if that makes sense)!
> 
> Anyway, it's safe to say things are heating up

Ben missed reading. He had access to  _ one  _ book, the book he had on him when he died, for a  _ long, long  _ time. The second he picked up one of the worn novels tucked away, a thrill ran up his spine. He laid on his bed, blankets high around his shoulders, and stared at it. This one he received from Reginald on their fourth birthday, congratulations on being the first to read to a satisfactory level, and it  _ sang  _ with memories.

He ran a finger on the weathered pages. They yellowed with age long ago, and when he lifted it up, sniffing it, he couldn’t resist the sigh. It smelled like  _ home.  _ Even with the light dust settling amongst the pages, it still held that allure he could never explain to his siblings. These were portals to other worlds. These were other people’s voices, people who wouldn’t be able to get an audience otherwise. These were beauty and tragedy, life and horror woven together in a way he couldn’t comprehend.

Knowing he needed to be up when Klaus returned, he started reading his copy of _The_ _Great Gatsby_ for the first time in years. If he remembered right, Diego stole it shortly after his death, reading it to himself in his big, empty room, stuttering over the words. He’d read it aloud at the edge of Ben’s bed as if it served as an altar, and Ben would sit there, too far to reach out to him. 

Then, Allison stole it from him. When Diego confronted her, she Rumored him into forgetting about the book. She’d read it, poring over it page by page, and then, she’d snap it shut and hold it close to her heart as if it held a greater weight. One time, Ben reached forward as if to hug her. He passed through her. And almost every time, she would take in a deep breath, hands trembling around the copy, and try her favorite Rumor— _ I heard a Rumor my family was whole again. _

Allison left it behind when she ran to Hollywood, and Vanya picked it up. She brought it to her new apartment, and in moments she felt alone, she’d read it. Then, she’d prop it up against her pillow and start a stammering conversation, uncomfortable and stilted, as if the book could summon Ben. Maybe it could, because Ben would listen and respond in the gaps she left, knowing she’d never hear his voice. She’d always start crying. She’d always abandon the book and sleep on her couch that night. 

Reginald sent Luther to retrieve the book from Vanya. She pleaded with him to leave it, but Luther took it anyway. And while he gave it to Reginald, he visited it on the shelf again and again. Then, he’d crack the book open and run his thumb over where Ben printed his name in his awkward, six-year-old handwriting. Luther would huff out a laugh, and Ben wanted to ask him what was so funny. He’d shove it back on the shelf.

Klaus was the last one to get the book. Ben had pleaded with him to get it back to Vanya or  _ someone  _ other than Reginald. Instead, Klaus realized why Reginald wanted it so badly. It was signed by F. Scott Fitzgerald before he passed. 

Klaus erased Ben’s name and sold the book. That night, he shot up with heroin in an alleyway. 

Ben didn’t speak to him for a week.

Ben ran his thumb over his awkward handwriting and flipped the page.

Somewhere in between Daisy’s frivolousness, Gatsby’s earnestness, and Nick’s passiveness, Klaus must’ve come in. Because one moment, he was reading a page with tears starting to form. The next, a pale hand covered with mottled bruises startled him out of his daze, pulling him away from the 1920s, pulling him away from a time full of glamor and lies and secrets.

“Hi,” Klaus said, voice paper-thin.

Ben dogeared a page and set it aside. “Hi. I’m sorry—”

“Benny Boy,” he cut him off with a heavy sigh, “I can’t deal with your pity party right now. If you want to guilt-trip yourself tomorrow, feel free. But I, personally, only blame Dad for being a bastard this time around.”

“Still.” Ben scooted back to make room.

His brother didn’t sit down. Instead, his eyes started to sweep across the room, searching for something. It took a few seconds for Ben to realize what he wanted. The key pressed against his chest went cold, and it took all his willpower to keep his gaze on Klaus instead of the hiding place of the pills. He planned to dump them later.

Klaus got up and went to his bookcase. He studied his brother, his mussed hair and the ripped sleeve of his uniform, hanging on by a few unraveling stitches. When he groaned and turned away, finding nothing, he saw the dark bags under his eyes, and then he glanced at the forming bruises and cuts. 

This was what Ben imagined ghosts looked like.

With a huff, Klaus turned back to Ben. It took him a few seconds to pull up his saddest expression, bottom lip popping out into a pout. “Can I have a hug? It was… It was a really hard night.”

And Ben almost said yes when the Horror pushed against him, shoving its weight against his abdomen. He gasped and bent over, hugging his middle. When he glanced up, Klaus was staring at him with wide eyes, no longer focused on the chain barely visible around Ben’s neck. 

Then, his brother shook his head slowly. “You have to fall asleep eventually.”

“You can’t have it back.” He curled one hand underneath his shirt, gripping at the key, before letting it go and going back to his book. Ignoring Klaus made him feel weird. Knowing his brother sat only a few inches away from him, staring at him, but still choosing to read a book instead made his skin revolt against him. 

He managed to read one page before Klaus flinched, and Ben dropped the book. 

Klaus laughed, somewhere between being hysterical and being fake. “Please, Ben. I thought you’d get why I need it more than the others. I can’t turn off my powers like our siblings can; you can’t either!”

“I get it, but…” Ben chewed on his lip, struggling to find the right words.  _ Were  _ there any right words? “I can’t be the one who enables your addiction.”

“It’s not an  _ addiction!” _

“I’m so sorry.” Why did Ben want to cry so badly? Talking to Klaus never  _ hurt  _ like this before. He had seen his brother at some of his greatest lows, but seeing him as a teenager, begging for even a sip of alcohol, slammed against his heart in a new way. He knew what could happen. He knew what  _ would  _ happen. “I don’t want you to see the ghosts. They’re… They’re mean and wrong and demanding, and you deserve so much better. You deserve to not be afraid every day. But… But this can’t be the way. This—” 

“Fine! Tomorrow, I’ll stay sober all night. But  _ tonight.  _ I just need them  _ tonight  _ because of your plan to paint nails and—” Klaus huffed out in frustration, reaching up and pulling at his hair. “I didn’t mean that.” 

Ben ignored the guilt mounting. He thought painting nails would be a great idea. Instead, all that remains was a bloody, chipped streak of red still on Klaus’s hand. “I’m sorry.”

“Then we can compromise! Just… Just one joint.”

It hurt to shake his head.

It hurt to see the way Klaus narrowed his eyes, growing desperate. He remembered some of the fights he had with Diego when his brother wouldn’t give him any money. He remembered the names and the comments, and Diego would shove him out of his boiler room. Then, Klaus would stand there, confused at what went so wrong, and Diego would go to his punching bag with shaky breath.

“You can do this,” he said unhelpfully.

Klaus sighed, not looking at him, fixating on a spot right over his shoulder. “Then, you don’t get it. You don’t have to put the Horror on display for everyone. You don’t have to deal with it in the same way.”

“It’s always there—”

“Prove it. I shouldn’t be afraid of the ghosts? Then, you shouldn’t be afraid of the Horror?” And it was  _ bitterly unfair  _ for Klaus to say that, but it made sense too. The two of them were the ones who wanted to get rid of their powers. It was hard to embrace that side of themselves while their siblings loved every second of it. They couldn’t use these to their advantage, not usually. 

Most of the time, the house didn’t have any ghosts, but they always followed him back from the Mausoleum. They’d leave at some point. After he ignored them for so long enough, they’d give up on talking to Klaus. Right now, though, they still hovered and refused to let things stand. 

He didn’t even know who Reginald buried in the mausoleum. The man never spoke of family, and Klaus never recognized any of the mutilated faces down there. Every once and awhile, Klaus would say someone new was added to the mix, and Ben would run scenarios in his head until he felt like he’d faint.

“That’s what I thought,” Klaus said softly. “I thought you said we could  _ beat our fear.  _ I thought you said it couldn’t hurt you.”

“Okay.”

“I thought you said—” He stopped, stuttering over his words as he leant back to study Ben’s face. “Wait,  _ what?” _

“You’re right. I’m not being fair. If you have to deal with the ghosts tonight, I can deal with the Horror.” Ben’s voice wavered as he closed his eyes, ignoring the tears threatening to push up against him. He clenched his fists in the blankets, and he started to coax the Horror out of him. It never needed too much persuasion.

Klaus reached over, the hand on his knee startling him. “Benerino, you don’t have to—”

The Horror appeared before he could finish. Slowly, more gently than he ever saw them before, the Horror unfolded from him. Ben groaned at the pressure mounting in his stomach, a telltale sign it was growing hungry. If they didn’t get a mission soon enough, he’d have to go hunting near the house for small animals. It fed on blood, and it fed on fear, and then it wondered why everyone cowered from it.

It looked…  _ Better  _ though. It looked a little stronger, a little more settled into itself. Its skin started to shine again rather than looking dried up, and the five tentacles all possessed a soft, blue glow. It wasn’t overpowering, like it was when it was a ghost, but it was more visible than it ever had been when they were both alive for the first time around. 

Then, one tentacle dipped towards Klaus, and Ben panicked and tried to yank it back. 

The Horror fell just short of Klaus. His brother didn’t seem to notice the sweat starting to form on Ben’s face as he reached up, wrapping his hands on the ends like a handshake. To his surprise, the Horror rumbled inside of him— _ purred?  _ “Hiya, beautiful.”

Ben let go of his control. He kept the balancing point in line—Ben always needed to be the one piloting the Horror, not the other way around, but right now, he could let it do its own thing. And most of the tentacles flocked to Klaus. One snaked across the floor and clutched at the doorknob, keeping it from being turned. 

One buried itself in Klaus’s hair, messing it up more, and Klaus giggled. Another wrapped around his waist. The other two hovered around protectively as if ready to bat off any needy ghosts. 

“It likes you,” Ben said after a few seconds.

Klaus looked away from where he continued to pet the Horror like it was a cat. “Well, duh. I like it too… Not as much as Benny Boo, but I have a feeling it likes you most too.”

“It likes Five most.” 

His brother sent him a dubious look before laughing softly. This time, it came out genuine, and Ben  _ glowed.  _ “Five’s not even in my top three siblings.”

“Do you rank us?”

“You, Diego, Allison, Luther, Five, Vanya,” he rattled off obediently.

Ben wanted to say something about how he couldn’t do that. About how it somehow reduced to nothing but numbers, just like their father. But… Instead, he basked in the fact he was still Klaus’s favorite. His brother didn’t know what was to come, years and years of being together with nobody else. His brother didn’t know he’d be the only ghost he looked forward to seeing.

Klaus giggled again as the Horror continued to play with his hair. “It just wanted to play, huh? Does Ben keep you trapped too much?”

“Well, it tends to murder people.” 

“Well, we’ve done some of that too. And we don’t usually lock people up.” He winked at Ben before going back to playing with the Horror.

He watched for a few seconds before placing a hand on the base of one of the tentacles. It gave the Horror pause as it twisted as if to look at him.

Then, it started to purr again, and Ben smiled.

-

The alarm blared overhead, and Ben startled awake. Something felt…  _ Different.  _ As he swiped at his eyes, clearing the sleep away, he turned and realized it all at once.

Klaus slept next to him, arms wrapped around his middle. 

The Horror remained stretched out, blissful and quiet. 

And Ben didn’t have a stomachache.

He closed his eyes and started to wrap his control around the Horror, forcing it back inside his stomach. It protested every step, but he wouldn’t be able to get ready for a mission with all the tentacles hanging out. He never understood how the portal worked, but he knew he couldn’t get a shirt over it right now. It calmed down slightly at the promise of a mission—hunger outweighed comfort.

Then, Ben slipped around Klaus and started to get ready. He’d wake up his brother when it was absolutely needed. 

He traded his pajamas for the uniform instead, pretending he didn’t recoil from the feel of it. In a weird way, he missed his leather jacket. He knew it’d be hot most of the time, but weather never affected him. It felt like another skin as a ghost. It never truly belonged to him, but somehow, it  _ was  _ his. It’d be three years until he could get that one though… And he only got it because…

The Horror stabbed into him, and he choked. Then, he rubbed his hands over his stomach. “Noted, moment’s over.”

By the time he fumbled with the mask, Klaus flipped over. He shifted to smile at his brother. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“You might want to get—”

“I’ll wear your shit today,” Klaus said, mid-yawn. He rolled out of Ben’s bed and went to his closet, fishing out the clothes. 

Ben made a face. “It won’t fit you right—”

“I always wanted a crop top,” he said in lieu of an answer. 

“I’m not  _ that  _ short.”

“Say what you want, little brother.”

“We’re the  _ same age.” _

“Poh-tato, pah-tato.” Klaus stretched out the syllables as long as he could before sighing. “I need a drink. Do you need one?”

“Klaus…”

“The Horror put on a pretty good show last night. I think it somehow managed to scare the ghosts away. Which… You’ve been holding out on me. We’re going to have to do this more often.” As soon as Klaus was fully dressed, he grabbed Ben’s shoulders and knocked their foreheads together. When Ben laughed, he smiled at him. “Thanks, Ben.”

“I’d do anything for you.” He spoke without thinking it through. Would he have said this in the past? 

It didn’t faze Klaus. His brother always rolled with the punches. If someone started acting differently, he noticed, but he didn’t say anything. Not unless he thought it might make things worse for them. He loved their family too, but he wanted to get away so, so badly. Even now, he wanted to be anything other than a Hargreeves—anything other than the  _ Séance.  _

Klaus reached up and mussed his hair, ignoring Ben’s protests. He  _ still  _ hadn’t found any hair gel; they’ll have to sneak out to town at some point. “Good thing I’m not asking you too, right? C’mon. Let’s go before Dad blows a gasket.”

He wanted to say something else. Instead, Ben nodded. “Okay.”

They didn’t even get one step out the door before Vanya fell into step with them, hair pulled into a high ponytail. A smile pulled at Ben’s lips; he didn’t think she ever tried that style before. It reminded him of Allison though. She  _ loved  _ doing that because it made her look like a cheerleader. One Saturday, she forced Luther and Diego to learn the routine with her. Seeing their brothers shouting and bobbing with invisible music—he barely suppressed his laughter.

“We need to talk,” Vanya said as Five blipped outside of his room, grinning at the blue light still around him. Then, his brother caught sight of Ben and narrowed his eyes, heading in their direction.

Ben offered a shaky smile. “That seems to be a trend these days.”

“Wow,” Klaus said, “who  _ didn’t  _ you piss off?”

Vanya shot Klaus a dirty look before lowering her voice. “Ben, you’ve been avoiding me ever since you said you thought I had… I had powers. What do you mean? What do you know that nobody else does?”

“I… It’s a hunch—”

“Ben! You didn’t come see me last night.” Five appeared right in front of him, walking backwards to keep pace. “Didn’t you see my note?”

“I did, but I was a little preoccupied—”

“Five.” Vanya huffed and reached up, fiddling with the tips of her ponytail. “I was talking to Ben first. You’ll have to wait.”

“I think  _ both  _ of you will have to wait.” Ben hid his hands behind his back, trying to ignore the way they started to tremble. He didn’t know what to say. To  _ either  _ of them. To Vanya, how did he tell her, in a gentle way, Reginald had been lying to her since she was four? How did he tell her Pogo and Grace, the people they were supposed to go for comfort, knew as well? How did he tell her she wasn’t ordinary? She was as special as the rest of them, but she scared their father for reasons he still didn’t understand. If anyone should be terrifying, it was Ben.  _ Ben  _ was the monster.  _ Ben  _ was the uncontrollable one. Vanya? She… She was one of the sweetest people alive, and Reginald drained her of that until only bitterness remained. 

How did he tell Vanya there was no reason she needed to be so alone?

And to Five… How did he explain he knew about the future without sounding insane? How did he explain  _ all of them  _ should know about the future? Ben was the exception, though. Time travel flowed around him strangely because he was a ghost. He died. And how did he face Five and tell him about the list? About all the tragedies the family would endure if he didn’t change anything?

How did he tell Five who he’d become by a freak accident?

Vanya made a noise in the back of her throat. “Ben, that’s not good enough.”

“Agreed,” Five said.

Klaus glanced and forth between his siblings, brow furrowed, but he made no attempt to defend Ben. Ben still reached over and grabbed his wrist instead, trying to calm his nerves. They were  _ mad  _ at him. He didn’t… He didn’t expect that one. 

No, that’d be a lie.

He  _ did  _ expect that. He expected them to be confused and angry, but he didn’t think it’d be directed at him for keeping secrets. What if he told them and they couldn’t accept the explanation? What if he told them, and they both chose to ignore him? What if he told them, and they hated him? What if he lost his siblings anyway?

Klaus maneuvered around until they held hands instead, and he squeezed it tight. Ben glanced at Vanya. “Do you… Do you trust me?”

“Of course, but—”

“I have a hunch. I don’t… I just…”  _ I didn’t know,  _ he wanted to say.  _ I didn’t know until four days ago. If I had known before, I would’ve done something a long, long time ago.  _ “Do you trust me?”

“Ben, you already asked—”

“There can’t be any ‘but’s here. Because if I’m right,” and Ben was right, “this will change your life. And I don’t want to do that without… Without your consent.”

“I trust you,” she said, “but you’re scaring me.”

“I’m scaring me too. I… Don’t take your anxiety meds.”  _ That  _ got the attention of Five and Klaus. Both of them gaped at Ben, but he forced himself to go on. “I don’t think they stop anxiety. I think they… I think they’re power suppressants.”

“What?”

“Think about it. You started taking them when we were  _ four.  _ Who has that bad of anxiety that young?” He didn’t know if that made sense. He didn’t know when people usually get diagnosed with anxiety. But it made Vanya pause and consider. Then, she nodded once, twice. She’d go with him on this one. 

And she’d see her powers soon enough. 

Hopefully, he didn’t start another apocalypse.

Vanya scampered off as they started down the stairs, and Five stole her spot. He leant in, practically spitting in his anger. “I saw your notebook.”

“I saw the note,” he said, trying to curb the anxiety rioting in his own stomach. Maybe he’d take some of Vanya’s anxiety—

The Horror snapped inside of him, and Ben fell down the rest of the stairs. 

As he hit the bottom, groaning, the Horror started to rip through his stomach. It was… Violent. He felt the skin breaking and tearing around the tentacles for the first time in  _ ages.  _ He could control this though. As he laid, staring up at the ceiling, he gritted his teeth and fought back for control. The Horror didn’t get to open and close the portal. Even as his stomach pushed outwards, even as his skin  _ burned,  _ he wouldn’t lose this one. 

Five appeared in front of him, and Ben almost lost it. “What the fuck, Ben?”

“I can’t,” he wheezed out, “explain it yet.”

“What apocalypse?” demanded Five as if Ben hadn’t spoken at all. “How do you have a whole ass list about stopping an apocalypse? Why can’t I time travel? How did you know Vanya had powers?  _ Does  _ she have powers? How did you  _ die?  _ What… What did any of that even mean? You’re acting as if you—”

“Numbers Four through Six! We do not have time for idle chitchat!” Reginald strode into the room, the others clustered behind him. “You need to get in the car right now, and Number One can explain the mission to you.”

“Ben—”

“I’ll explain later,” he said, wrenching any control from the Horror. It backed off, the heat fading, and Ben let out a sigh, burying his face in his hands for a moment. Then, he forced his way to his feet. His father expected him to be in fighting shape after all. And maybe, the Horror would calm down. “After the mission, promise.” 

-

For the first time,  _ ever,  _ Ben appreciated the way they sat in the van. Reginald and Luther in the front, Diego and Allison next, Klaus and Five right behind them, and Ben rode in the very back by himself. Sometimes, on the rare occasion they let Vanya come with them, he would get a companion. Right now, though, he sat alone. 

And he was okay with that. Because Five couldn’t glare at him unless he turned around in his seat, and Reginald would have his head if he did that.

“Number One, get on with the briefing,” Reginald barked.

Luther, the  _ only  _ one with permission to face them, flipped around with a solemn expression on his face. However, the smile starting to form almost gave him away. He enjoyed being in charge. He enjoyed being Reginald’s right hand. 

Ben realized, somewhat distantly, his head still buzzing with Vanya and Five’s disappointment, with the quiet moment from Klaus and the Horror, with the headache from falling down a flight of stairs, he didn’t remember this mission. But the weeks blurred together before Five’s disappearance. 

He leant away from Luther’s voice and studied the view outside the window instead. The sun was sluggish today, hesitating to rise, and its orange light swept across dew-covered grass. Ben wanted to shuck off his shoes and sink his toes into the ground. He wanted to roll around on a frosty morning.

And, selfishly, he wanted it to rain. He wanted to feel it on his skin again. He wanted to feel the cold underneath his jacket. He wanted to step outside and face a storm. 

He spent so long in the mansion; he forgot he hadn’t left yet. Being alive meant spending time with his siblings again. Being alive meant experiencing the world all over again. And it felt raw, and it felt wrong, and it felt like relief. It felt like having no skin and touching everything anyway. 

“Number Six!” Reginald called from the front of the van.

Ben shifted away from the window, glancing up. “Yes, Father?”

“Should things go south, I expect your powers to be able to combat any opponents.” And the other words hid there, Reginald not willing to say it out loud. It rang out so loud anyway.  _ If something went wrong,  _ he asked,  _ do not hesitate to let the Horror snap their necks. Grind up their bones. Make the world rain in blood. _

And the Horror purred at the thought.

“Yes, sir,” he said softly. Luther gave him a sympathetic look before going on with the briefing. 

Ben managed to distract himself from the view outside the window and listen to his brother instead. “We don’t know how many hostages there are, and we don’t know how many people are waiting for us there. We do know they haven’t contacted the police yet. The second the police show up on the scene, they’re threatening to shoot the hostages.”

“How many?” Five asked.

Luther paused. “The person who called used a voice modifier. And they spoke of having a team, but…”

“But we’re going in blind,” Five finished.

Reginald scoffed. “And I have trained and prepared you for that very situation. As long as you cooperate as a team and use your powers, I see no reason it should fail. Number One, what is the game plan upon arriving at the warehouse?”

It was a warehouse? Ben almost wished they went to a museum or some kind of store. He wanted to see everything he missed again. He wanted to run his fingers on the velvet ropes, and he wanted to stare at the paintings and  _ talk to someone  _ about them. He wanted to goof around with Klaus and find the worst article of clothing, knowing Klaus would want to take it home anyway. He wanted to goof around with the music playing overhead.

But it was a warehouse, which meant dark and dusty and cold. 

“Number Four will act as the lookout at the front entrance. Number Three will get the back exit. Two and Five will go through the front and try and find the hostages. I will go with Six. Whoever finds them—” Luther hesitated. 

They never used anything to communicate. Ben always wanted to get some kind of fancy earpiece. Instead, they worked on telepathy or  _ something.  _

Allison nodded. “We’ll keep them alive. We’re the Umbrella Academy.”

And at this point, the only person who had killed anyone was Ben.

-

As Luther entered the warehouse, one eye out for any trouble, Ben watched Luther. He bit down on his lip as he ran through everything that helped with his oldest brother. They… They didn’t talk, not before. They had very little in common. Luther focused on training, on being the best, on being Dad’s favorite, and Ben wanted nothing less than to be a superhero. If he could’ve found a way out of it, he would have. And he didn’t even… He  _ barely  _ felt bad about that.

“Something feels wrong,” Luther murmured, calling back to Ben.

Ben nodded.  _ Nothing  _ moved in the warehouse. It almost felt like a… Trap. “There aren’t any rooms to keep hostages. But I don’t think… Dad’s usually pretty good at finding which calls are prank calls.”

“It’s not a prank call. If Dad says it’s serious, it’s serious.” And there was no room for question.

Ben wanted to ask him why he believed in Reginald. He wanted to ask what it would take to break that trust because he saw no reason why they  _ should  _ trust him. He’d send you to the moon, Ben wanted to say, and I couldn’t visit you. Because the Moon was too far away, and he couldn’t teleport. He walked all the way to Hollywood once to spend a few months with Allison. When he returned, Klaus was in the hospital, almost dead.

He never did that again. 

Ben wanted to say the numbers would go down until only one remained. He didn’t want Luther to be the last one again because Luther had a whole  _ life  _ in front of him. He deserved to fall in love like Allison, like Diego, like Klaus. He deserved to start a family of his own. He deserved to find a job he actually cared about.

He could go to NASA, Ben thought with a smile. That’d be ironic. He could become an astronaut anyway.

Instead, Ben shrugged. “They could’ve lied.”

“Dad would’ve known.” And he glanced over at Ben, daring him to disagree, until Ben nodded in quiet agreement. They came upon a metal staircase, and he gestured for Ben to move behind him as he started up. Somehow, his brother managed to keep his footsteps almost nonexistent. He must’ve trained for better stealth with their dad at some point.

He wouldn’t be able to pull off stealth in the future, not with the new adaptations to his body. Ben cringed almost every time he saw it; all he could see there was his brother’s grief and Reginald’s guilt plastered on full display. But, at the end of the day, it was  _ Luther.  _ He couldn’t spend his whole life mourning his brother’s loss of innocence. Reginald, however, shipped him off to the moon to avoid any acknowledgment of his faults.

As Luther neared the top, he paused. “Sometimes, Pogo answers the calls, doesn’t he?”

“Sometimes, sure.” He didn’t really know what Pogo’s job entailed besides caring for the children, however distantly. Ben still hadn’t spent any time with the chimp since arriving back, and he had no intention of doing that. He shouldn’t fault him for lying to them, but he  _ did.  _ At some point, when does enough become enough?

Ben knew when he drew his line with his father and his staff. 

It was the stupid autopsy, when they took whatever was left of his body and tore it to pieces. It was when all he got was a soft prayer from Pogo in a different language and disappointment across their father’s face. It was when Grace didn’t recognize him because she didn’t detect his heartbeat.

Did they ever have parents?

Luther lowered his voice. “This stays between us, okay? I need… I need someone in the family I can trust.”

“You can trust me, but…” Ben glanced away, trying to make sure no criminal chose this moment to make their appearance. “But what about Allison? I thought she was—”

“I love Allison,” Luther hurried to say.

Ben lifted an eyebrow. “Trouble in paradise?”

“Shut up. Not like that. It’s just… I trust Allison, I do, but she doesn’t really do missions. Not in the same way. She doesn’t understand all of  _ this.  _ And yeah, she’d made a man shoot his partner’s foot, but that’s the worst she has to do. She hands men their weapons, and she lets them cut themselves up. Me and you… We’re the ones who throw them against walls and make them bleed with our bare hands.” His brother’s eyes went distant. 

He frowned. “What are you talking about—?”

“I love Dad. But do you ever feel like these missions are… Fake, somehow?” Luther shook his head as if to get rid of the thoughts. If Dad knew he felt this way, he’d butcher Luther on the spot. “I  _ trust  _ Dad. But I don’t… I don’t trust Pogo. Or Grace, not really.”

“How long have you felt this way?” He never heard Luther speak this way before. Maybe Five’s disappearance shocked him out of this mindset. Ben never would have known. They were on opposite sides of the room, metaphorically and physically. One and Six… The Golden Child and the Monster.

Luther shrugged. “Not long. Just… Keep an eye on Pogo for me? I’ll do the same. I don’t want anything to hurt the team.”

“I don’t want anything to hurt our siblings either.” Ben hesitated before grinning. “That includes you, Lulu.”

“You’ve been spending too much time with Klaus.” He nudged him, the most affection he got from Luther in ages, before turning and getting up the rest of the staircase. Ben couldn’t stop the smile from sitting there, drinking it in. Sometimes, he forgot Luther was their age. It wasn’t Dad and Luther, Ben and his siblings. It was Dad versus all of them.

Then, someone’s steps thundered on the railing, heavy. 

Luther froze. “That’s not stealthy.”

“They want to be chased. It’s probably a diversion…” Pausing, he studied his brother’s expression. A little too much remorse, a little too much guilt. He nodded. “You want me to chase them while you hunt for the hostages up here.”

“It’s probably a dead end,” he said like an apology. “And if we’re still trying to be subtle, I can’t hide my steps as well as you can.”

Ben took a deep breath before tearing after them, trying to make his steps as light as possible. The Horror pulsed in time with his heartbeat, trying to find a way to burst out. He ignored it as he raced down the catwalk. They piled cardboard boxes high and with the dim light, he struggled to make out the person. It was as if they just appeared and disappeared as the whim struck them. 

Beneath, someone shouted in another language…  _ Swedish?  _ And Five responded with that same language, ending in a word they all could understand. 

_ “Shit!” _

The gunshots started a moment later.

Ben almost tripped, and that brief hiccup in his stride was the  _ only  _ thing that stopped him from ramming into the woman reappearing. She threw something at him, something metallic, and he dove behind one of the boxes. It clattered across the catwalk as his heart leapt into his throat, his breath wheezing out. He clamped his teeth down to keep from being too loud, too hysterical with his attacker  _ right there. _

The woman shouted over the gunfire, a strange accent he couldn’t place right away. “Well, don’t be a coward now! I want a demonstration of Five’s littlest brother! He’s such a legend, so I  _ must  _ be missing out!”

He froze. 

How did she know about Five? The only way Five stood out from them would be in the future… In the Commission. His mind flashed to the woman holding him, a knife pressed into his throat. And he knew… He knew she would be more powerful than him. The woman would be a trained time assassin, meant to stop anomalies just like Five became. And he saw Five in action even in a body not meant for that strain.

She took a step towards him, and he glanced back where he came. Could he run away? Or would she just go for his siblings instead? “What? Got cold feet now? Or should I say cold tentacles? I know your dirty little secret, Ghost Boy, so what’s the point of trying to hide from me? We can have a civilized conversation.”

Ben took a deep breath, ignoring the way the Horror rolled against him, ignoring the way his ears still rang from the gunshots from downstairs. Luther would go for them first. He’d be the second problem since no noise came from this area, no screaming. If he listened, he thought he could hear Five talking rapidly in that different language… Swedish?

Then, he vaulted over the box and held up his fists.

She stared at him for a few seconds before cackling. “Oh, come on. Do you really think I would hurt such an innocent, tiny child?”

“Who are you?” he asked, voice surprisingly even. “Did the Commission send you?”

“Oh, you already know about the Commission?” A frown pulled at her face. Then, she paused, eyes widening. “Right? Your darling brother probably told you in about fifteen years or so, huh? I’m afraid I don’t recognize you from watching the tapes… Being  _ dead  _ must’ve made getting photos hard.”

He flinched, and the Horror roared in his ears. Still, he dropped his fists. “I haven’t done anything to mess with time.”

“Besides your existence?” She gave a feral smile before plopping on a cardboard box, knife pointed out. He wished he was Diego. He wished he could pull out some of his own, just to feel better, just to feel more in control. “That’s not the issue.”

“Then what is?” He  _ hated  _ this. Somewhere underneath them, Allison screamed out a Rumor. “Because if you don’t have anything—”

“I know you’re thinking about telling your siblings the truth about time travel.” She laughed when he paused. “Do you think we don’t have eyes everywhere? And since my dear old mumsy threatened  _ your  _ life to little effect, I figured it was time we switched tactics. Maybe it’s not  _ your  _ life you value.”

“What are you talking about?” He clenched his fists by his side. 

She tossed the knife up. Halfway towards the ceiling, it suddenly twisted in direction and went flying down towards his siblings. He cursed and hurried to the ledge, letting the Horror rip through his skin to catch it before it could inflict any damage. He panted as it fought against him, trying to redirect towards the woman. Its siren call echoed in his head, a sign he was  _ dangerously  _ close to losing it.

It wanted to paint the walls with her blood. It wanted to gut her and wear her skin around a tentacle. It wanted to wiggle around her brain until it became a puddle. It wanted to crack every bone wide open, exposing this woman—

_ “F-fuck.”  _ Ben shoved back against the railing, swallowing hard, and reigning it back in. As she stared at him, confused, he ignored the bile rising in his throat. “How did you do that? Who  _ are  _ you?”

“You don’t have a good handle on your little pet, do you?” she said instead, taking a step forward.

He held out a hand and offered a shaky smile. “If you keep this up, you’ll find out. Trust me, it’d like its next meal.”

“It seems like it’d rather eat  _ you.”  _ She reached forward, pulling out another knife from underneath her sleeve. She wore leather—a pang of jealousy ran through him. He made no move to get away from her, and she reached out, pressing the blade against his cheek. “What? Unafraid to die again?”

“Who are you?” he asked, trying to sound bold. The Horror pulsed against him, sensing how close she got. 

She giggled. “I  _ loathe  _ being melodramatic. My mum would say something about being your angel of death. But you can call me Lila.”

“You can’t be my angel of death,” he ventured. “I thought you wanted to hold up the timeline. I know how I die.”

“Oh, we both know you don’t intend to hold to that. After all, you’re getting  _ dangerously  _ close to telling Five and Vanya the truth, aren’t you?” she murmured, so soft he thought he might be imagining it. “But if I hear you told your siblings about the future, I will  _ personally  _ ensure they will be ripped inside out. Or… How was it you died again? Maybe I’ll watch them froth at the mouth, hallucinating, begging for someone,  _ anyone  _ to come save them.”

“You can’t touch my siblings,” he hissed.

She leant back, eyes widening. “And what, exactly, do you intend to do about it, snookums?”

“You’re not invincible.” If he unleashed the Horror, she’d be dead within seconds. He didn’t know why he still resisted, not when she was so close.

She must sense it because she backed up. “I won’t touch them… Not yet. But if you don’t believe I’ll know when you tell them… Ask Klaus if he enjoyed the mausoleum.”

“You’re  _ watching  _ me?”

“Something like that.” She tossed a piece of paper at him as she approached something hidden by a box—a briefcase? “That’s my mumsy. I hope you can read fast.”

“What are you—” But she disappeared in a flash of blue. He glanced around and cursed, torn between running to his siblings and staying here and reading the note. Ultimately, he unfolded it frantically, taking in the cursive handwriting. 

**_‘The loneliest moment in someone’s life is when they are watching their whole world fall apart, and all they can do is stare blankly.’_ **

Seconds after he read the note, someone shot at him. Ben dove behind another box, watching as the one he was just at explode, splinters going everywhere. He started sprinting, dodging and weaving behind the litter on the catwalk, as the figure continued to shoot at him, either purposefully missing or  _ that  _ bad of a shot. 

When the gun clicked, Ben popped up over the box and glanced at his opponent.

It wasn’t Lila.

It was a man with white hair and a blank expression. Blood covered his clothing, and he… He couldn’t tell where it came from. And now, with no gunshots ringing out, he couldn’t hear any of his siblings. He didn’t… He didn’t know what caused that streak across his torso. He didn’t know why his shoes were stained. He sported a limp and a broken nose, but he showed no sign of pain. 

“Where are my siblings?” he asked, voice cracking. From fear, from something else, he couldn’t tell.

The man didn't answer. Instead, he charged forward.

Ben stood on top of the box, and he finally let the Horror out.

-

The rest of the fight was a blur. The Horror was not going to stop, not if Ben tried, and not if someone else tried to take it down. So, he unleashed it just like his dad trained him to. Just like he had done with the Commission agents what felt like centuries ago.

The man had not spoken once.

But he was screaming. 

And something in Ben wondered if the man had a family. He wondered if he would return to siblings who never knew how to show their love. He wondered if the body would be carried through the house, covered only by a blanket, no blood, no nothing to mark him dead besides the arm lolling out. He wondered if he’d be mourned for. He wondered if he’d become a ghost, stuck watching his siblings live out their lives, something he wanted so desperately. He wondered if he’d come to hate his siblings as much as he loved them.

Something else in Ben was selfish. 

And something bigger than Ben was hungry.

The tentacles was wrapping itself around the man’s middle, and it was slamming him against the wall. 

_ Crack! _

_ (He would never know how Reginald died. The man told Klaus, up in the afterlife, he chose to end it, and Ben flickered out of existence, his anger too much for a moment.  _

_ Because that man made his life hell. That man made him hate being alive. That man taught him to be a monster, and he gave him prey, again and again, to rip apart. _

_ But Reginald went straight into the light, and Ben never got to speak to him.) _

_ Snap! _

_ (Diego found Eudora’s body while Ben watched over it, unable to follow Klaus. He watched the way his brother gathered her up, sobbing and stuttering and waiting for her to breathe again.  _

_ But Eudora went straight into the light, and Ben never got to speak to her.) _

The Horror was purring, rumbling through Ben’s body. The smell of copper was drifting through the air. It was thicker than the screams. It tasted like poison.

Downstairs, he thought he heard the fight pause at the screaming—was it just the man? Did Ben scream now too? He couldn’t hear past the ringing in his ears.

Their father implemented a system of closed doors. They would leave the villains, tied up and waiting, and they’d nudge Ben towards them. He walked past them, trembling hands and quiet pleading, but he knew what he needed to do. And something inside him, a younger Ben who dreamt of becoming a hero, begged him to stop. To use his voice. 

But Ben was selfish, and he wanted to please his father, and at least it was behind closed doors. Because his siblings didn’t need to see him for what he was. They could pretend they didn’t see the blood, the guts, all smeared on Ben while everyone else remained immaculate.

They could pretend the dead didn’t line his path.

The tentacles were shoving the man through the cardboard boxes. The wood was splintering under the force. 

_ Squish! _

_ (Klaus cradled Dave in his arms when he died. He kissed his lips and his forehead, pleading for him to come back. _

_ But Dave went straight into the light, and Ben never got to speak to him.) _

_ Crunch! _

_ (Leonard died, staring at the woman he claimed to have loved rip him apart. He lost all that nervous charm in death. He laid there, still and unmoving, mutilated beyond belief. She killed him with a thousand cuts. _

_ But Leonard went straight into the light, and Ben never got to speak to him.) _

The Horror was feasting, and the blood was flying through the air.

Someone was running up the stairs.

_ “Ben!”  _ they were crying.  _ “Look out!” _

But Ben wasn’t paying attention. 

The first time he unleashed the Horror, he kept his wits about him, trying to yank at the Horror at every move. He wanted it to be merciful. The monster inside him had different ideas, though, and why would it listen to Ben? Instead, Ben pulled and pulled and  _ pulled  _ at his control only to watch the beast devour someone whole. 

That night, he looked up the people it killed. 

They left behind five spouses, nine children, two dogs, and two cats.

They all asked for bodies to bury. 

Ben stopped looking up the people it killed.

Two of the tentacles were moving, curling around the boxes. Someone was firing a gun, but the boxes were moving to meet the bullets. And they were breaking, splitting under the pressure.

And the other three were picking apart the man. 

Seconds—Minutes—Decades passed, and his siblings were subduing the men shooting at him. And the men were cursing and fleeing, and they were saying something in another language he didn’t understand  _ (Olga Forolga?).  _

And then his siblings were staring at him. 

Luther, his mask shattering to reveal the fear. Diego, his stutter too fierce to get the words out. Allison, paling and staggering to the railing to puke. Klaus, eyes wide and haunted and twitching. Five, brow furrowed with a morbid curiosity. 

The Horror relished in the fear for a moment. It wasn’t hungry anymore.

It pulled into him, leaving Ben covered in blood he’d never be able to scrub out.

_ (Ben died, cold and alone and scared. _

_ But he didn’t go into the light.) _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one of the things i wanted to do with this story was include my favorite characters from season two. some of them, i can't write at all. Raymond Chestnut? Sissy Cooper? Harlan? The REAL Grace? Jill? It's just not doable since they're still in 2019.
> 
> But all of the Commission characters are fair game, and I wanted to try my hand at Lila (ALSO, obviously, the Commission is still having its problems behind the scenes. Ben just doesn't get to witness it and I MIGHT write a followup to what I imagine would've happened if the Handler couldn't get Five to murder everyone)


	5. past the point of no return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Ben ducked his head, tugged on his jacket, adjusted his mask, and stepped out of the darkness, shedding whatever secrecy remained. As he joined his siblings, ducking behind Klaus and Five, the crowd assembled went quiet. Even Allison’s confident voice booming out faltered, and his skin crawled knowing he caused that. 
> 
> They all knew the Horror ate; they never saw the Horror feast."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is affectionately titled: Ben's Horrible Day that Keeps Getting Worse. What can I say? Nobody ever said they had a HAPPY childhood...
> 
> TW: Panic Attacks  
> Starts @ “Well, what if I try right now?” His brother whirled around, blue gathering at his fists as if he’d do a jump right there.  
> Ends at the last line break of the story: The sleep studies were the worst.

“We’ve got incoming!” Diego sprinted back from the exit, a scowl across his face. He started flipping one of his knives as he skidded to a stop in front of the rest of them.

Ben crouched behind a column of the boxes, trying to scrub as much of the blood off his face as possible. They needed to switch the color of the uniforms. The splatters stood out in all its grim starkness, and none of his siblings made direct eye contact, not anymore. 

Klaus giggled, running a hand over his face. “You’re  _ kidding  _ me, right? Great! Today just keeps getting better!”

“Front entrance is blocked too.” Five popped back, inches away from Ben, and he cursed, flinching into one of the boxes. His brother sent him a look of sympathy, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “We’ll have to face this one head-on.”

“What are we going to do about…?” Allison flapped a hand in Ben’s direction before covering her mouth again, trying to suppress her gagging. 

Ben stared down at the soaked jacket. 

“They’ve seen worse from Ben,” Luther said at last, voice booming. 

His stomach rolled as he stumbled to his feet, catching himself on the boxes. An emptiness stretched from head to toe. It felt like someone hollowed him out, leaving behind only the sickening sound of bones crunching and blood sloshing. Even the Horror grew quiet, content with the damage it did. 

Allison made a face. “But  _ we  _ never—”

“They don’t know that,” Five said, “and they don’t need to know.”

She wanted to protest. He could tell by the way her eyebrows knitted together. Then, she squared her shoulders, and she evened out her tone. “Of course. Well, at the very least, let’s go put on a show.”

Luther caught up with her, and when she pushed open the front doors to the warehouse, she already had her most charming smile on. Diego hung back, but Klaus clapped him on the shoulder to ease him out. Everywhere else, he tried to beat out Luther. Here, though, he always let Luther lead. He didn’t trust his voice. Diego could go the rest of his life without stuttering, but he wouldn’t trust it in these situations. 

Five quirked an eyebrow. “Are you coming?”

Ben nodded, not trusting his voice.

His brother turned on his heel, storming ahead of him, the moment lost. Ben swallowed hard. He faced crowds before, covered in blood. At least this time, he knew what would happen. Hell, he could start constructing the news articles in his head. He knew the script  _ that _ well after all.

_ The Horror Shows True Colors _

_ The Horrific Truth Behind Number Six _

_ Number Six — Hero or Villain _

Ben ducked his head, tugged on his jacket, adjusted his mask, and stepped out of the darkness, shedding whatever secrecy remained. As he joined his siblings, ducking behind Klaus and Five, the crowd assembled went quiet. Even Allison’s confident voice booming out faltered, and his skin crawled knowing he caused that. 

They all knew the Horror ate; they never saw the Horror  _ feast. _

Then, something flashed. Ben startled and leant into Klaus before trying to get away. He didn’t want to freak him out. If he didn’t need to confront his brother with any more reminders of what just happened, he wouldn’t. He could stand as the outcast—

Klaus shifted to block him from view, groping blindly to catch his wrist. Ben stared down at the tops of his bloodied shoes. It soaked through his uniform, layer by layer. It already stained his skin; he could  _ feel  _ it. It started to dry and clot, sticking to the sweat still settled there. And he’d wear it until they could go home.

And then, he’d run to the shower and start scrubbing before the water even hit. He needed to beat the timer. Every time, it dinged ninety seconds in, and the water shut off. He’d stand there, skin still vibrating and raw and  _ wrong,  _ and he’d pick at the rest of the blood until even the washcloth had gone cold. Reginald already thought ninety seconds were thirty seconds too long for showers.

Klaus reached up, tightening his grip. “Hey. Where are you right now?”

“Right here,” he mumbled, flexing his hand until the blood chipped and cracked. Then, his gaze shifted enough to see the blood staining around his stomach. The tentacles long since retreated, but he tried to pull his jacket over the spot they emerged anyway.

His brother leant in, whispering too soft for the others to hear. “It’s fine. You’re okay.”

“I…”

“You’re okay.” Klaus offered one last smile before it slipped and twisted to the smile of Number Four from the Umbrella Academy. It was just a little too vacant, a little too doll-like. The press always questioned if his vacant gaze came from drugs or ghosts.

In front of the public, they couldn’t be Diego or Klaus or whoever. They needed to be One and Six and every number in between. Here, they’d be the obedient soldiers of Sir Reginald Hargreeves. The older they got, the better their masks needed to be. As the world started to question their heroism, they’d double down on their personas of calm, behaved children. 

The press would take it as an invitation to reach out and break their privacy. Allison would come home, crying her voice hoarse from the names they called her. Luther would start picking at his food, pushing it around instead of eating. Diego would stop talking. To the rest of the world, though, their words never stung.

Ben didn’t remember how they came up with the next phase of names, but his siblings clung to them. The Rumor was better than words describing her body. The Kraken was better than speculation about his country of origin. And the Horror… Belonged to the monster inside of him. If everyone called him the Horror, did he lose what made him Ben?

In the end, did Ben ever exist like Number Six and the Horror did? His tombstone would read Number Six. They made a statue of him, and he couldn’t recognize his features in its smooth surface. He always thought it looked more like Five—Five, the one immortalized in a colored portrait of his exact likeness.

In the beginning, on days where Klaus told him to fuck off, Ben would sit in the shadow of his statue, too afraid to leave the grounds without Klaus there. What if he wandered too far and got pulled into hell (because he, of all people, didn’t belong in a good place with all the blood on his hands)? As he sat there, alone, dead to the world, he’d think about the legacy he never wanted. 

They ran story after story, all contradictory, for the better part of two years. Every time his siblings went in public, someone would start talking about their fallen teammate. Some called him a psychopath who succumbed to the Horror within. Those ended with one of his siblings killing him out of necessity. Others painted him as a tragic hero, and those ended with a rope he tied himself. 

It took him a few seconds to realize someone tried to thrust a microphone in his face. He blinked at it, unable to process it. “Number Six! What can you tell us about the monster?”

Klaus leant in. “We’ve handled the bad guys! No monsters left here!”

“That’s not the monster I was referring to,” the reporter tried again. 

His brother simply smiled wider. “There aren’t any other monsters to talk about then!”

“Would you say,” another asked loudly, this time in Luther’s direction, “you’re afraid to work with Number Six’s Horror? Have you actually  _ seen  _ it at work? He is the only one who emerges with blood on him.”

Luther hesitated, and the moment was all they needed. The press jumped on them, clattering the air with their probing, frustrating questions, until none of them had room to  _ think.  _ They asked the right question, though. Ben couldn’t fault them for that—his siblings never saw the Horror at play like that before. 

“—killing people instead of locking them away in jail—”

“—no credentials—”

“—above the law—”

“—a wolf in sheep’s—” 

“ —Number Six—”

“ — inhumane—”

“—the Horror—”

“—monster—”

“—beast—”

“Klaus,” Ben whispered, voice breaking on his brother’s name. He blinked furiously, pushing back the tears. He… He was an adult now. These shouldn’t affect him, not like this. But he hadn’t missed these. Not in the slightest.

At least, he tried to remind himself, it wasn’t the press conference after Five disappeared. They all got up on the stage, their father watching them backstage, and they offered bright smiles with dead eyes. Allison cracked first as she answered a question. Their social media darling, unable to keep her voice from breaking and a sob from escaping. And Luther jumped to her defense, too fiery, too passionate, and one look at Dad shut him back down. Klaus laughed hysterically next to Ben— _ close  _ to Ben. They kept an empty chair between them. 

He remembered thinking, as his family fell apart, Five was his bridge to the rest of the family. Without him, he sat alone. 

The headlines tore them apart the following day. His ‘favorite’ will always be this one—the Horror tore Five asunder, and they all covered for Ben. And after the police visited, they tore Ben’s room apart. They ripped his books and broke his bed and confiscated anything he ever wrote in. 

They had another press conference after Ben died, but Klaus shot up in an alleyway, and Ben watched his brother overdose for the first time instead, begging for people on the street to see him, to save his brother. He still didn’t know how his brother survived that. 

As the voices continued to grow louder, Ben shifted even closer to Klaus, trying to disappear into him. 

“Ben, you’re okay,” he whispered back at him, but his voice felt too distant. 

Ben pressed his face in Klaus’s back, and he tried to steady his breathing. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, echoing too loud, and it felt like a weight kept settling on his chest. It pressed in, in,  _ in,  _ stronger than even the Horror. And the monster inside started to wiggle around at the unexpected pressure, angry.

He knew he didn’t have the same level of control as Diego, but he still prided himself on his control. Right now, it slipped free from his fingers, but he  _ couldn’t let it go.  _ Because it meant the Horror would come out. Because it meant maybe he’d even scare off Klaus. Because it meant he might not ever be able to get his siblings to stop looking at him with those wide, fearful eyes. 

“Ben?” Klaus whispered.

The tears soaking into Klaus’s jacket… At least, it wasn’t blood. And at least, nobody could see him. Not behind his bigger, bolder, better brother.

No wonder he was the one who died.

“Ben, you’re freaking me out a little bit.”

“I’m f-f-fine,” he managed to get out from his numb lips. 

Five moved until he leant up against Klaus. Klaus murmured something to him, but Ben stopped paying attention. He stood there, trying to calm down, trying to ignore the guilt attaching itself to his bones, dragging him down, down,  _ down  _ to the earth where he should lie beneath a tombstone with a fake name. 

-

Even Pogo shied away from him as he stepped into the academy. He tried to conceal the look as he held the door open, but his nose wrinkled up at the smell of all the gore, and he instinctively took a step back from Ben. He pretended not to notice as they shuffled in, two by two by two by one. Luther kept stride with Reginald, the two of them discussing something in low tones. Allison and Five talked with looks of disgust on their face, and Allison kept glancing back at him. Klaus and Diego did their secret handshake, and Ben’s heart clenched inside his chest, hard enough to make him gag again.

He glanced up in time to see Vanya turn the corner upstairs. She froze, and her pencil rolled free, flying over the balcony and slapping against the wooden floor. Reginald’s head snapped up to her. “Number Seven! What’s the meaning of this?”

“S-sorry, I…” Vanya swallowed hard, eyes still fixated on Ben.

He ducked his head, ignoring the shame building back up. Somewhere deep down, he knew his sister would get over it fastest. Vanya always tried to make sure nobody got excluded—it may be the cruelest irony of the family. And suddenly, her book made more and more sense. 

He wished he could recall all the specific passages now. He wished he could recite them to her, and then, he could work on changing it all for the better. But… The missions he’d gladly keep her out of. Sure, it might make things easier for the team, but it’d wear on Vanya like it wore on the rest of them. When people get used to burying and burning bodies, it left scars on their minds… Scars they’d never be able to cover up.

Their father made a noise, derisive and cold, and Vanya scattered. He studied where she used to stand for a few seconds before nodding towards Grace. “Go make sure Number Seven practices her audition etude. She needs to relearn where the intersection of her business and her siblings’ lies again.”

Ben’s stomach rolled, but Five spoke first. Five  _ always  _ spoke first. “Oh, come on.”

“What was that, Number Five?”

“I  _ said,”  _ he took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. Allison reached for him before thinking better of it. If he wanted to implode, she’d let him, “all you do is remind Vanya she’s not like the rest of the family. How do you think she  _ forgot  _ it? You  _ want  _ Vanya to feel like absolute shit because you’re—”

“I’d advise you against finishing that line of thought,” Reginald said, gaze dark as he took in Five.

His brother huffed, hands twisting into fists at his side. “Or what? You’ll use  _ your  _ powers on  _ me— _ oh, wait! You don’t  _ have  _ any. So why do you have  _ any  _ power in this house—?”

“Because I am your father—”

“Adopted father.”

“The only father who wanted you. May I remind you, Number Five, of your origins? Of a mother so desperate to get rid of you she didn’t even need a bribe? Of a mother of four others, but unwilling to keep the last, defected one?” Their father never looked like he took enjoyment in their suffering, but Ben thought he  _ must.  _ Otherwise, why’d he wait until Five stepped back, looking as if he slapped, to hum contently? Why would he build the conflict to  _ that  _ point? “Or should I remind you of the dangers behind your powers? That you could rip yourself inside out by accident without my careful guidance? Is Number Six not a  _ stunning  _ example of what your lack of control will do to you?”

At his name, he jumped before hugging his arms around him. The Horror beat against his skin, and it felt like it pushed hard enough to bruise. Yet, while it cut him open, it never showed on the outside. The first few days he described the stomachaches to their father, long before they knew what powers they all had, their father scoffed and moved on swiftly. 

_ “A little nausea and pressure will stop you from saving the world? Is that what you intend to tell those you failed? You couldn’t do it today because you couldn’t withstand a little bit of pain? That’s a sacrifice you’re willing to make? A pity.” _

Five floundered for words, and for a second, he thought his brother might start crying. Then, he stepped back into the line, nothing else to say. Reginald nodded once, satisfied with that reaction. 

Then, he banged his cane against the hard floor, a gavel of the judge, jury, and executioner. “Well? Line up! I need a debriefing from you all!”

And so, they filed in. When Five stood at his elbow, he debated reaching out, trying to comfort him. Then, his brother shot him a murderous look without even  _ trying  _ to reach out. On that note, he glanced away. His stomach kept rolling and rolling, and he didn’t know if it came from the Horror or his own weakness.

“I have already sent out a clean-up crew. Judging by Number Six, should I assume a fatality occurred?” It sounded so clinical as if it already faded into a statistic.  _ Ten walked in the warehouse, and only nine emerged. What was the number of fatalities? _

It lacked the color bouncing behind his eyes every time he blinked. The smears of red dominated his vision, framing every scene he forgot. His own bones wavered and threatened to fold inwards at the memory of the snaps and pops. And that ghost followed him around, as sure as Klaus’s, haunting him as it breathed down his neck with questions Ben didn’t know how to answer. 

_ You lost a brother; how could you make someone else live through that? Because you noticed, didn’t you? That the three looked the same? And the way they cried out for him? Was that not what you did for Five? Was that not what they did for you? Can you even fault them for wanting to kill you? You fucked up the timeline. You’re selfish, and you’re willing to sacrifice everyone for six people. _

And Ben  _ was  _ selfish because he knew the answer was still the same. He would make this sacrifice again and again if it meant none of them would suffer in the same ways. If he could ease his siblings’ pain by even a fraction, he would consider that a victory. No matter what happened to the world… By helping them, by stopping them from starting an apocalypse, wasn’t he helping everyone in the long run?

And that little voice in the back of his head, the voice of the man he killed or his conscience or maybe even the Horror, laughed.  _ Was he lying to himself? _

“There was a fatality,” Luther said.

Reginald nodded. “And what did you do with the body? Did you dispose of it properly, or will I have to deal with the press of that too?”

“There wasn’t…” Luther stammered as Allison’s hands flew up to her mouth, stopping her from gagging again. “There wasn’t enough of it left to be identified as a body. Five buried some of the… Some of the bones that remained, but most of it had been picked apart and—”

“Are you crying?” Their father was in front of him too fast.

Ben glanced up, eyes wet. No tear had fallen yet, though, so he swallowed hard and shook his head, afraid his voice would give him away. His father studied him for a long moment before scoffing. “Perhaps we will train more. That way, you will leave behind  _ no  _ body to dispose of. Do you know how many hoops we will have to jump through if that continues to be a trend? Or perhaps, we’ll simply leave you behind during missions.”

It didn’t sound like a punishment. Instead, Ben’s heart fluttered, excited at the prospect. 

He turned, walking back towards Luther. “It’d be a shame if the Horror grew so hungry, in the absence of missions, it turned on you. Tell me, Number Six. If you’re so ashamed of that man you slaughtered, how would you feel to go out the same way?”

“Dad…”

“Enough. I’m done talking with you. Tell me numbers. How many hostages? How many captors?”

“There weren’t any hostages. We suspect they lied to lure us out. And there were three ‘captors’ there.” That detail got his head snapping back up. “Three men. Two of them shot as soon as they saw Number Two and Five. That caused Three and Four to run in to help them combat them. Number Six and I heard a suspicious noise. He pursued, and I ran to help our siblings. He found the third man there—”

“A woman,” Ben interrupted, voice soft.

Luther glanced down at him, brow furrowed. “A woman? I didn’t think—”

“She…”  _ Disappeared with a briefcase, allowing her to travel back to the future.  _ “She ran off after the third man arrived. And then… You know.” He waved a hand towards the Horror.

Their father huffed. “Give me a description of this mystery woman since you are the only one who saw her… Assuming, of course, you didn’t choose to partake in Number Four’s hobbies and mislead this whole investigation. And Number One, afterwards, please tell me what the men looked like.”

Ben rattled off the description, barely hearing the words leave his lips as the Horror thrashed inside. The pain jumbled the words together, and the more he slurred, the greater the disbelief on his father’s face. Yet, if he truly suspected he was high or drunk, he’d get drug tested by Grace tonight. And he didn’t even know… He wouldn’t mess with drugs. It reminded him of death, of the cold, of loneliness. 

The words he said barely mattered. Her short hair could grow out, and they’d never know so much time passed. She could get rid of her leather jacket and bright red shoes. She could stop outlining her eyes with that dark, dark eyeliner. Her skin could tan or pale in the season she came from. And while Ben thought he could pick Lila out of a crowd, he honestly didn’t—couldn’t—know.

He paid attention to Luther’s report though. He assumed the men travelled with Lila from the Commission; he wondered what it’d mean. Would killing one of them affect the timeline too much? Or was that okay? Because they already lived out their course of events? The first time he killed Commission agents, they all had masks on, and he didn’t watch the life leave their eyes. How could he? Ben didn’t have any life of his own. And with the end of the world breathing down their necks, how could he care? He thought…

He didn’t think.

It  _ hurt  _ was all he could think. 

“They all looked similar—brothers, we assume. They had white hair, no roots showing, and they were wearing clothes from several decades ago. It was long coats and button-ups. They carried machine guns… None of us recognized the brand. And they spoke in—”

“Swedish,” Five interrupted. “They shouted something as they left…  _ An eye for an eye.” _

“In regards to the death of the third brother, I presume.” Reginald glanced at Ben. “We will have individual training tomorrow. Pogo?”

“Already marked on the calendar, sir.” He gave Ben a look, something close to sympathy, before his nose wrinkled again, offended by the smell.

“You are all dismissed… I hope you all think of your shortcomings in this mission. We cannot allow the same thing to happen again.” 

-

The blood refused to leave him alone. He couldn’t find it, but he  _ felt it.  _ With every step, he sloshed through a puddle. It wafted up to him, coppery scent unmistakable, and it curled around his face before shoving its way down his throat. His skin burned where the blood used to be. His stomach throbbed, too heavy and too bloated from everything the Horror swallowed up. Because it wouldn’t go away—it couldn’t go away. 

Ben killed before. He killed a few days ago at the end of the world. Yet, none of their screams stuck with him like the silent Swede. His mind stacked him up against the other ones he saw, however distant. Because that one looked like the smallest Swede—that one would be the Five in his family with his height. Or maybe it’d be the Klaus, the gentlest. Or maybe it’d be the Vanya…

Ben reached up and pulled at his hair until black swarmed over the man’s face. As he staggered away from the bathroom, he grabbed the balcony and glanced down at the floor below. He could look at the chandelier; it’d shatter on top of Luther and reveal his biggest shame and secret. No… No, he could listen to Pogo; he’d die in 2019 when Vanya tossed him into antlers, spearing him in half. He could… He could feel the polished wood before it broke and shattered, threatening to bury them all under the rubble. 

The Horror prickled against him, and he glanced down at his stomach as if it’d burst free. “Time travel doesn’t sit well with you either? Or was it the Swede?”

It fought harder, angry and defensive. Ben slid down, leaning back against the soon-to-be destroyed house. As he hugged his stomach, he closed his eyes and let out a harsh laugh. Then, the images came back, and his eyes snapped back open.  _ “Damn.  _ I… This’ll sound stupid to you, but I wish you could talk sometimes. It’d be nice to have someone who knows what happened.”

He paused, thinking. The Commission would be able to kill them if he said something. Sure, he might have faith in his siblings when they were older, but they were only  _ thirteen  _ here. They’d fail, and he’d watch them all die.

He didn’t know how Five did it. How did he come back, so  _ sane,  _ after watching the whole world go to shit? And he knew he wouldn’t be able to tell any of them the true extent of his crimes. He was an  _ assassin.  _ If Ben thought he couldn’t wash the blood off right now, he couldn’t imagine what Five felt like. And his brother grinned and bore it, determined to be the savior of the world. 

Ben was maybe the worst choice for this. Maybe Five should’ve been the one to travel back… Again. Or was that too heavy of a burden for one man?

“Well, don’t you look particularly stunning today.”

He jumped, banging his head on the railing. Groaning softly, he grabbed at his hair before trying for a laugh. “Thanks, Five. Have you been waiting for me to get out? Bathroom’s all yours.”

“I’ve been trying to catch you before you try to run away again.” Five crouched down in front of him, cocking his head. “Or are you planning on throwing yourself down the stairs again to get away from this?”

“That, uh, was an accident?” He didn’t know why it came out like a lie. Him falling down the stairs was an accident, at least to him. The Horror pushed him down because he got mad at the  _ thought  _ of taking power suppressants. He still barely understood how the Horror pulled that off. Every time he thought he’d get a chance to process everything that happened, the world changed a little more.

Once again, how did Five  _ not  _ go insane?

Five rolled his eyes before getting up, offering his hand. “Well, come on. Bathroom’s free, after all.”

“Why aren’t we going to your bedroom?” He took the hand anyway, almost shocked his brother didn’t jump away to prank him. Then again, as he got shoved into the bathroom, Five slamming and locking the door behind him, the physical touch was probably more about policing Ben. 

Ben sat down on the floor, slumping, while Five huffed and perched on the edge of the sink instead. He debated asking his brother if he was worried it might break under his weight; that obscure fear always got to Ben. But Ben was always scared of the world while his brother confronted every shadow head-on.

“Do you  _ not  _ remember what day it is?” Five demanded.

Well.

Five days until Five tried to time travel… A problem that kept showing new faces. He thought he could talk his brother out of it, but the last time they talked, Five assumed he was too attached to let him reach his true potential. Maybe if Five got along better with Reginald… But that one felt borderline impossible these days. 

Considering he saw Ben’s notebook, though, the curiosity alone would keep him here. Five cared about all of them more than he could say—Ben was sure of it. Otherwise, why hadn’t he given up in the post-apocalyptic world? Being alone for that long would’ve tempted him to lie down and give up. But his brother never threw in the towel no matter how long he languished alone, and there was something admirable in that… Something he never got to say because he didn’t trust Klaus to communicate it.

“Sleep study? Really? You don’t recall even though we’ve been doing this since we were  _ toddlers?”  _ Five stared at him.

The second he said it, though, it made sense. “I hated the sleep studies.”

“Hated?”

“Well, I like to go into each one, unbiased,” he said carefully. “Maybe this one will change my mind.”

“You’re a shitty liar, you know.” His brother sighed and leant back. “But I, sadly, might agree with you on that one. You have been acting like you have brain damage— _ more  _ brain damage than usual. And I can’t pinpoint why you’ve been acting like that… Unless, of course, this offers an explanation.”

He fished out a piece of notebook paper and tossed it at Ben. When he snatched it out of the air, his heart thumped against his chest, hard. Didn’t he do this with Lila? And then, her words flowed through his head.  _ “I will personally ensure they will be ripped inside out… Maybe I’ll watch them froth at the mouth, hallucinating, begging for someone, anyone to come save them.” _

“Would you like to explain?” Five said as Ben stared down at the words, unable to shake the quote out of his head. 

He forced himself to focus. This wasn’t the paper straight from the Handler; this was something  _ he  _ wrote. He recognized the swoops and smears of his handwriting… It was sloppier than he remembered it to be. He hadn’t realized it at that moment; he hadn’t realized you could go out of practice with  _ writing.  _ Shouldn’t memory muscle keep his handwriting the same? Wasn’t that what distinguished his writing from his siblings’—memory?

Ben folded it again, fumbling with the fringes. “You tore it out from my notebook. That’s… A little mean.”

“I really don’t think  _ that’s  _ what you should be focusing on,” Five said instead, voice growing curt.

He shrugged. “I don’t know what you want me to say—”

“Oh, I don’t know… How about why you wrote that shit? Do you know something I don’t? Did you get a new power? Can you see the future?” Five made a gesture at his own stomach, and Ben furrowed his brow, confused. He groaned. “Your Horror—”

“It’s not mine,” he corrected.

Five rolled his eyes. “Then whose is it?”

“It belongs to nobody but itself. Sometimes… Sometimes, I think I belong to it.” He laughed. Five didn’t. And they sat there, Ben going red and Five staring at him like he grew another head, before he tried to break the silence again. “What about the Horror?”

“It’s from another dimension, right? Is it showing you the future?”

Huh.

That… Actually made sense. It made a lot more sense than the truth, and considering how harshly Five shut down the idea of travelling to the past, he wouldn’t believe it anyway. But… Ben had a feeling talking about the future would set the Commission upon them, technicalities be damned. They weren’t exactly ones to play fair…  _ Any  _ of them. If Five was Allison, he would’ve Rumored Ben to tell him the truth already.

The truth, though, would lead him to an early grave. Pretending the future didn’t happen meant maybe he could give Five a life. Maybe he could meet a real-life Delores, or he could be a scientist, or he could  _ grow up with the rest of them.  _ Ben missed most of their major moments, but at least he got to watch them.

(He played this game a lot when Five first came back. Who had it worse: Ben or Five? Ben got to see his siblings grow up, so he understood what a mess they became. Five didn’t get that. But Ben would never get another chance to talk to them, and Five would get a chance to get to know them again. It wasn’t fair to compare traumas, but Ben did it anyway… As long as he never told Klaus, it was like it didn’t happen, right? 

He realized, around thirty games in, he felt betrayed by Five somehow. Because now, he truly was the odd one out of the family. At least with Five gone and missing, the family was fractured beyond repair. But with Five back, they started to piece themselves back together. His family would get to be that… A family. A family without Ben.

Klaus once told him ghosts grew vengeful after awhile. They couldn’t hang around forever, and it corrupted them to be around the living. 

Ben asked him if he was scared that would happen to him, and Klaus gave him a dopey smile before getting so high, he was dead to the world. So, he thought about it on his own. He tried to gauge whether his mental state unravelled.

And sometimes, he wondered if it’d feel better if it did.)

Five snapped, and Ben startled. “I’m trying to have a conversation with you, so it’d be  _ greatly  _ appreciated if you listened to me.”

“Sorry. It’s been a long day.” If he glanced into the tub, he’d see the blood after all. “I don’t have an explanation for you, Five.”

“Bull-fucking-shit. Fine. Let’s run through this,  _ item by item.  _ We can start with the most problematic. Oh, I know! How about the title? _ ”  _ Five snatched the piece of paper back, unfolding it and clearing his throat.  _ “‘How to Help My Siblings (and Maybe Stop the Apocalypse)?’”  _

“Dad says there’s going to be an apocalypse every other week.” Ben tried to keep his voice from shaking, but the lie was there anyway, too apparent, too big. He swallowed it down and went for an easier truth. “I don’t care about that as much… I just want to help you guys.”

“With  _ what?” _

“With life?” He waved a hand at the door, gesturing at the outside world. “This is a hard way to grow up! And… And I don’t want to watch you guys waste your lives. Because you guys are the greatest people I have ever known. You’re braver and smarter and more charismatic, so it’s unfair Dad would be able to keep you down. You should go on and save the world, whatever ways you want, and live whatever way you want.”

“But you won’t.” Five stabbed at the last item. “What the fuck does ‘don’t die this time’ mean? Did you  _ die _ ?”

_ Yes.  _

“No,” Ben said with a laugh, the Horror starting to roll against him again at the lie. Okay, so it’ll tolerate the one about the  _ apocalypse,  _ but not his death? The world meant more than Ben’s life, but he guessed an Eldritch monster may be hard to reason with. “I… Out of all of us, it makes the most sense I’d be the one to die. I was… Uh, I was multitasking when I wrote this list. I meant… Don’t die  _ in  _ time?”

“That makes no sense,” Five said slowly as if he was explaining it to be a toddler.

Ben shrugged. “I wrote it late at night too. So who knows? I wasn’t exactly firing on all cylinders.”

“When  _ are  _ you this week?” Five shot at him. “But fine, okay. I don’t want to hear about your depressing, hypothetical death.”

“Because it makes you sad?”

“Because it’s not going to happen, dipshit. I heard your theory about Vanya’s powers which… Fine. It makes a little sense. Why the fuck did we put a four-year-old on anti-anxiety medication? I don’t know why she reacted on your word and flushed all of them down the toilet with next to no evidence—”

“She did?” Ben stumbled to his feet, racing to the window right above the bathtub. Five made a questioning noise in the back of his throat, but he stepped into the tub before he could regret it. He missed his adult height. As he balanced on his tiptoes, he glanced down at the grass below. And, if he squinted, he made it out.

A little orange pill bottle. 

“She did,” Ben breathed out. 

Five snorted. “I hope you know what you’re doing—oh, wait, I  _ know  _ you don’t because you haven’t given me one straight answer. And, as previously established, your poker face is absolute shit. But, fine. Maybe Dad has power suppressants or some shit. The only one he usually suppresses is you, so you’d know more than me.”

And there was a  _ hint  _ of jealousy.

Ben offered a humorless smile as he came back, feet now wet and a  _ little  _ pink. “I’d trade powers with you if you want to be in the know.”

“I think your— _ the  _ Horror might not like that. It chose you for a reason.” And he shifted back almost subconsciously. He resisted the urge to laugh. It wasn’t funny. But… Of course, the Horror scared Five too. Who didn’t it scare? Klaus? But today changed things… “Goddamnit, stop trying to distract me. Why can’t I time travel?”

“You’re not… Ready…” He winced as soon as he said it. He should’ve thought that one through a little more. Wasn’t that… What did Reginald say to him which caused him to sprint out of the academy?

Five’s eyes glistened, that daring glint where he refused to back down. Ben chose the wrong words. “And what the fuck would you know about me being ready?”

“You… Can’t?” He needed to find the right words.

He snorted. “Why not?”

“It’s not…” He couldn’t say possible. If he said possible, Five would pull out his equations and question Ben’s intelligence. He couldn’t say smart. Any insult would get his brother running away from him, maybe to time travel. He couldn’t say simple or easy. It’d offend him because he put so much time into it. He couldn’t say safe because then he’d be spilling about the future, and then Lila would come and  _ kill Five by slitting his throat in his sleep and…  _ “You can’t. I don’t… I told you, I can’t tell you why. But you can’t, and you shouldn’t, and… Where are you going?”

Five shoved open the bathroom door, throwing up his hands in exasperation. “Your nonsense isn’t good enough for me, Ben! I need proof! I need evidence! Give me  _ something,  _ and I’ll consider it!”

“I can’t tell you!” And he didn’t even know if he would. Because then he’d have to live with that. For the rest of his life, Five would have to live with his potential. He could become one of the best killers at the Commission. Who wanted to hear about the killing machine they were? Who wanted to know they’d end people’s lives, even if it was for the greater good? Even if they were ‘heroes?’

He scowled as he stomped down the hallway, approaching his room. “You  _ can’t,  _ or you  _ won’t.” _

“Can’t. I can’t. Five, I promise—”

“Well, what if I try right now?” His brother whirled around, blue gathering at his fists as if he’d do a jump right there.

Ben’s heart stopped. “W-what?”

Five couldn’t do a jump. Not right here. Not right now. If he jumped, he’d get a fate worse than death. If he jumped, he’d suffer. If he jumped, he’d never be the same person as the one he is right now. He wouldn’t be the same. He’d be so, so, so different. He couldn’t jump. If he jumped, if he time travelled, Ben  _ failed him,  _ again.

_ He couldn’t he couldn’t he couldn’t he _

“What if I…?” Five held up his hands, a shark grin, the grin of someone who could kill someone. He’d paint the world in red if he didn’t stop him. But Ben couldn’t stop him. Ben couldn’t do anything. His brother would jump in time, and he couldn’t stop him. And Five let the blue light cluster there, weaving, and it felt like it fled straight to Ben. Pulling, yanking,  _ pushing.  _ “What if I see what’s so bad about time travel?”

“No, no, no, Five, no, I.” He couldn’t stop watching the blue light. It was the light of a ghost. It was the light that surrounded him all the time, the light nobody else could feel. And it wanted him back. But it wasn’t that light. It was Five, Five jumping, Five time travelling, and… And he couldn’t, and Ben couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t  _ live.  _ Not with it right there.

Five’s grin didn’t fade. It grew brighter as the world grew bluer and bluer. “If you’re not going to tell me…”

“Five,  _ f-fuck,  _ please, please, don’t, I’m… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He gulped, drowning in the light. “Five, you can’t—”

“I can, and I  _ will,”  _ he said, mimicking Ben’s voice from before. 

And before Ben could reach him, he popped out of existence. 

Ben stared at the empty space, hands outstretched, reaching, reaching,  _ reaching.  _ But he was gone. Five… Five  _ was gone. _

Ben stumbled backwards, tripping over his feet, weightless. He felt like a ghost. And as his elbows cracked against the wood, it came through underwater. He didn’t feel it. His skin… His  _ touch…  _ It was gone. It was gone just like Five because he failed, because he ruined everything, because he’s just  _ Ben,  _ and how could Ben finish anything?

Five wouldn’t come back. Not this time. He couldn’t, he couldn’t,  _ he couldn’t.  _ And so, the world unravelled, bit by bit. Five was gone. Ben would die. He already  _ was  _ dying. The world was calling him back. It  _ wanted  _ him dead. He didn’t belong. He was unnatural. He was dying again. And again. And again. 

“—en? Holy shit, what did you  _ do?  _ Ben, are you with me? _ ” _

Because they’d loop again. Five left. Ben died. Vanya caused the apocalypse. Five sent them back in time. He left. Ben died. Vanya caused the apocalypse.  _ Five sent them backintimeheleftBendiedVanyacausedtheapocalypse— _

“I… I just… I thought if I jumped into another room, it’d freak him out enough to tell me about the future. I didn’t think—”

“No, you  _ didn’t think.”  _ Something  _ touched him— _ it was Reginald, it was the Horror, it was  _ death, it was death, itwasdeath.  _

Ben slammed back against the railing, flailing out to push them back. “No, no, no, no, please… I don’t… I don’t… I  _ can’t…” _

“Okay, okay! I’m sorry! I didn’t… No touching. I’ll just sit with you!”

“I  _ can’t,”  _ he moaned with his fading breath, doubling over. 

“You need to breathe… Ben, you’ve got this, deep breath—”

But he  _ didn’t.  _ How can he… He didn’t remember breathing. He spent years and years and years without it. And his body forgot. And now he can’t get it back. Because he was going to die all over again. He wasn’t  _ supposed  _ to be alive. He wasn’t supposed to still be around. If Five left, Ben died. There wasn’t anything else. Five left, Ben died. Five was leaving, Ben was dying. 

And he couldn’t suck in a breath. It rattled through him so fast… As if he didn’t have skin. As if he didn’t have anything left. As if he was nothing but the Horror now. Could the Horror live without him? Would it die again? Would it tear him to pieces? It didn’t want to die again. It didn’t want… He didn’t want… He…

“Five, what do I do?”

“I… I don’t know. I didn’t…”

“Shut the  _ fuck up.  _ Do you think panicking is going to help him? Move.” And suddenly, something was swimming in front of him, and he tried to recoil. They couldn’t… No touching. They’d faze through. They’d make him unreal. They’d  _ kill him.  _

But they held their hands up, and he gasped and stammered and stared. “Benny, can you hear me?”

The words filtered and ebbed and swayed in his ears, but he managed to choke out a yes after five seconds, minutes,  _ hours.  _ Oh God, why wouldn’t this end? Why couldn’t he stop this? Reginald would kill him. He lost control, and—

“Let’s take it slow then, okay? You don’t have to talk… Just… Nod or shake your head, okay? And if you don’t like that, and you’re feeling better, you can tell me. But… Slow. Do you…” 

“Can’t you Rumor him—”

“No. Are you listening to my voice?” And somehow, he managed to nod. He could barely hear her over his choked sobs, breaths, gasps. It sounded thick and gurgly, as if something caught in his lungs. Blood… Was it blood? Had that come back? “And do you hear that? The hiss of the air conditioning? And maybe even the chill from it? The hard, hard, wooden floors beneath you? They’re probably cold, aren’t they?”

It took him a second.

She pressed on anyway. “Slow. Just… You don’t need to do anything. The hiss of the air conditioning and the chill. The wooden floors. Uh… These pajamas? They’re always scratchy, aren’t they? Feel weird after a shower? Still probably a little raw and wet, right?”

He was… No. Okay, okay, he can… He could… Pull himself out of this. He just… No. Yes. The air conditioning. Almost as loud as her voice. Almost inaudible. If he… If he held his breath, he could hear it better. If he held that pain in his lungs… If he  _ felt  _ his lungs. But it was there. Soft. Like her voice. And it felt cold. The railing ached. His  _ body  _ ached. 

His vision cleared a little, just enough for him to start making guesses. Allison right in front of him. Vanya and F— _ Five?  _ His breathing picked up, but Allison shifted, blocking him. “Remember when we sketched our initials in the bathroom door frame? Dad got so mad, but we did it anyway. He made us sand it over. But we were little, and we were bad at it, and you can still see it. And Klaus marked our heights, remember? If you squint, I bet you can still see it. I’m not facing that way, so you’re going to have to tell me. Okay? You can nod, you can say it, but I’m curious. Because do you remember it happening?”

A weird sort of numbness started to settle over him, but he dug his fists into his stomach—oh, when did he do that? He glanced down, and he saw blood seeping out. He pulled at it, revealing gashes from his nails. No Horror. Was it… He poked at his stomach. It pushed back, hesitant. 

He didn’t know how long he stared at the blood winding down him, Allison’s voice still droning, until he looked back up. “Allison…”

“There you are, Ben.” She flashed a smaller smile, not the million dollar one. 

He swallowed the ash, the dust, the blood in his mouth. “I’m sorry—”

“You’re fine. We can talk about this later. You know Dad. We gotta be on time for everything, right? Can I… Can I help you up?” She shifted, keeping her hands in sight.

He glanced past her. “I’m sorry—”

“I know you are. I don’t know why,” Allison murmured. “May I?”

“Y-yeah…” He felt hollow. He felt like all the life was squeezed out of him. 

Allison wrapped a warm hand around his, and he froze. When did he get so  _ cold?  _ “C’mon, Ben.”

-

The sleep studies were the worst. 

After Ben’s… Outbreak, he floated through the rest of the day. And since most of his siblings were avoiding him anyway, it didn’t matter.  _ He  _ didn’t matter. The only one who stuck to his side, stubbornly, was Allison. She shooed away Vanya and Five like a bodyguard. On another day, he’d fight her. He’d insist she treated them better. Instead, he stared at her with blank eyes. 

He ended up reading the same page of  _ Little Women,  _ over and over. He… He couldn’t touch  _ the Great Gatsby.  _ Not again.

_ (“Thanks,” he whispered in the library, not looking away from the book. _

_ Allison reached over anyway, squeezing his hand, before going back to her magazine. “They happen to me too. I… I always try to get to my room before they happen. How stupid is that? Missions are so easy for me, but the little things pile up. Press conferences… I always thought I was good at them. But when I think about them… It’s stupid.” _

_ “It’s not stupid.” _

_ “No, it is. Maybe… I’m not stupid, but the situation is.”) _

Now, he laid awake in bed, knowing he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep no matter how much his skin burned and ached with the weight of the day. Because he’d fall asleep and see the ghost. He got why Klaus got high now. 

Ben reached up, fumbling with the key, before going still again.

Reginald, once a week, would attach probes to their heads. It monitored their brainwaves, watching them even as they slept. He would record little things, and while he never explained it, it always changed who he would train the next week. Once, Ben saw the report from one. It made little sense… And Ben wasn’t sure he ever wanted them to.

His father would know he couldn’t fall asleep though.

And somehow, Ben knew he wouldn’t care.

The Horror growled, and Ben stared up at the ceiling. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the next chapter is kicking my ass right now haha so it might be a little more time before the next update. It's a segue between this and the next Big Moment, so... It's coming along, hopefully sooner than later.


	6. trace of rouge, face of beast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Number Six,” Reginald’s voice crackled, and Ben jumped, hugging himself, “I thank you for your punctuality for the first time this week. Judging by the results of the sleep study, I worry about your fate on the team if you fail this training.”
> 
> Ben took a step backwards, staring up at the camera. For as long as he could remember, he wanted to get out of the Umbrella Academy. And now, he couldn’t let that happen. He needed to keep an eye on all of them. He brought destruction to them; he messed up the timeline. He needed to be the one who protected his siblings from the world. He… He couldn’t fail, not this time. 
> 
> Pogo entered, clad in a white lab coat and scrubs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> today's chapter is affectionately called: 'ben has a brief happy moment followed by his mental health spiraling down the drain.' I'm trying to balance his sibling time with everyone, but there are some... obvious favorites. Ben has some obvious favorites anyway.

Growing up, Ben’s plate always looked different than his siblings’. While their meals depended on Grace’s programming, Ben’s came with more specifications. He got exact portions every day, and they wouldn’t let him leave the table until he finished. Sometimes, it meant he pushed himself until he cried. Other times, it meant he’d try and sneak snacks at night only to get scolded by their father. 

When they turned ten, Reginald decided that particular rule needn’t exist anymore.

 _“Number Six,”_ Reginald said, _“needs to learn where he starts and the Horror ends.”_

They learned early Ben and the Horror shared feelings. According to the stories Pogo told them, they originally suspected Ben was bipolar, the same way they suspected Klaus was schizophrenic. Eventually, Ben learned when the anger, the desperation, the emptiness belonged to the monster in his stomach, but he never could master the difference between his hunger and its.

He would eat and eat and eat, and the hunger continued to pulse against him like a savage heartbeat. Then, he’d stagger off and puke it all back up, his stomach unable to handle it. On the other side of things, he could go days without eating, and he wouldn’t remember until his vision went black and his hearing warped.

He swirled Grace’s eggs around his fork. 

_(Ben startled as the door banged open, dropping his toothbrush into the sink. He fished it out, ignoring his shaking hands, as the person stalled in the doorway. Through a mouthful of toothpaste, he tried to steady his voice. “I’m still in here.”_

_“Ben…” Klaus gripped the doorknob, knuckles going white. His brother must’ve just woken up; he always got ready last. His hair frizzed up in every direction, and he hadn’t bothered to button up his sleep shirt. The sleeping probes still left red indents where they once stuck._

_He closed the door behind him while Ben spat out the toothpaste. “What happened to knocking?”_

_“It’s… Nothing I haven’t seen before?”)_

Klaus nudged him. When Ben glanced over, he gave a wide grin before nodding down at his plate. Ben pushed more food around his plate as he shook his head. His throat felt tight enough already. The Horror played around inside him, curling and uncurling around his ribs. It made the whole room swim around him—that alone made him want to vomit.

His brother frowned before mouthing _‘eat’_ at him. He took an exaggerated bite, his cheeks bulging out like a chipmunk’s. His stomach rolled once, and Ben glanced away. 

He made direct eye contact with Vanya. She startled, dropping her silverware. As it clattered, her head shot up, eyes sneaking Reginald. Their father still read the newspaper, though, and his focus remained unbroken. She glanced over at Klaus, and understanding dawned as she suddenly smiled and mimicked their brother.

In her attempt to copy Klaus exactly, she managed to miss her mouth. Most of the eggs ended up on her cheek instead of in her mouth. Ben paused, a smile playing at his lips, before he shook his head. 

He rubbed his stomach, and the Horror darted to his touch, following the movement. _‘Full.’_

_(“‘Sides, Ben, I think you’ve been avoiding me.”_

_Ben winced before trying for a laugh. It came out flat. “If you’re going to lecture me, you might want to wait. I’m still reeling from Five’s.”_

_“Well, it’s about Five’s—”_

Shit. _He took a deep breath, and he shoved his hands into the uniform’s pockets. “I can’t tell you anything more—”_

_“I’m sorry.”)_

Klaus slurped down his orange juice. Ben twisted, staring at him, and his brother smiled. Then, it dribbled down his chin and landed in his lap. His eyes went comically wide as he dove for a napkin, mouthing the curse words as he scrubbed at his pants. Ben snorted before he tried to disguise it as a cough.

Vanya reached over and traced the rim of his cup. He hadn’t touched it yet. Ben pantomimed gagging, and she furrowed her brow. Then, her expression twisted to look like a kicked puppy’s. She mouthed _‘try’_ at him, and something tugged at his heart.

Then, the pain in his stomach returned as the Horror surged forward, and he pressed his lips together.

_(“Sorry?” Ben repeated dumbly. Had he missed something? Klaus hadn’t done anything wrong. Unless… Had he broken his sobriety? But he would’ve smelled like alcohol or something, wouldn’t he? “For what?”_

_“I… I know you didn’t really want to talk yesterday. Allison made that pretty clear.” Klaus laughed before scrubbing at his face. “I can’t believe Allison was the one who was there for you and not me. I thought… You know, you’ve always done so much for me. I should repay it. And I wasn’t there for you when you needed me. And I’m glad she was there, but you’re… God, this is coming out weird.”)_

Klaus frowned before gesturing at his stomach. Then, he pressed his hand flat and wiggled his fingers around. He mouthed something, too fast and too muddled to possibly keep track of. When Ben shrugged, he frowned and did each syllable individually, waiting for Ben to nod in understanding each time. _‘The. Hor. Ror. Is. Full. You. Are. Not.’_

 _‘Not hungry.’_ And Ben meant that.

Vanya tapped the glass of orange juice again, frowning. _‘Try.’_

Ben mimed puking again.

Klaus kicked him beneath the table. _‘A. Lit. Tle. Bit. Then.’_

_‘Not. Hun. Gry.’_

_(You don’t… I haven’t always been there for you. And you shouldn’t be sorry you weren’t there. I… I don’t know why I freaked out that bad. It was…” He couldn’t believe three of his siblings watched him lose it like that. He didn’t know how he’d be able to face them. He was supposed to be the person who changed the future. Instead, the idea crippled him enough he’d panic in front of his brother teleporting away. It was… He was embarrassed by himself. He could only imagine what the others thought._

_Klaus shifted forward. “Can… Can I touch you, Benny Boo?”_

_“Yeah, but—”_

_He pulled him into a hug, and his breath caught. Then, he hiccuped and held his brother so tight he could feel his heartbeat._

_Ben didn’t know why he started crying.)_

_-_

It felt wrong to be in this room. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine Diego’s anguish and anger all around him, suffocating and stoic all at once. Reginald never used this room for his one-on-one training before. One long water tank lined the wall, blue light snaking out from its depths. On the opposite wall, a mounted whiteboard listed times… Ben hoped it wasn’t the time Diego stayed underwater. A camera sat right above the door, mounted on a loudspeaker, and someone shoved a wooden chair to the right. 

_“Number Six,”_ Reginald’s voice crackled, and Ben jumped, hugging himself, _“I thank you for your punctuality for the first time this week. Judging by the results of the sleep study, I worry about your fate on the team if you fail this training.”_

Ben took a step backwards, staring up at the camera. For as long as he could remember, he wanted to get out of the Umbrella Academy. And now, he couldn’t let that happen. He needed to keep an eye on all of them. He brought destruction to them; he messed up the timeline. He needed to be the one who protected his siblings from the world. He… He couldn’t fail, not this time. 

Pogo entered, clad in a white lab coat and scrubs. He wheeled in a cart with a box, and something moved inside. He offered Ben an apologetic look as he abandoned it, going to the whiteboard and wiping away all of the hours and minutes marked there. 

The Horror twisted inside of him, and its anger spiked through him. Ben swallowed it back down. He couldn’t deal with it right now. Luther and Diego still stared at him, wary from the Swede’s death. The only reason Allison seemed to move past it was because he cried into her shoulder yesterday like a baby. No wonder she became such a good mom… Her maternal instincts were strong even now.

 _“As of late, you have been acting painfully irrational. I can rely upon Number Four to be unpredictable, but we do not have room on the team for unknown variables. If you cannot return to your previous behavior, I will be forced to reconsider your place on the team.”_ Ben flinched again. He didn’t know if he could return to how he used to be. He was quieter when he was younger, but he grew so tired of talking to only Klaus. He was more desperate to please Reginald and Luther when he was younger, but he didn’t want to suffer any more trauma. He had enough on his plate already, please and thank you. _“However, I imagine one good training session might get your head screwed on straight again. That, and I have not forgotten your link with your Horror. Perhaps it simply needs more sustenance than you provide it.”_

The Horror stabbed at him, snaking into his lungs. Somehow, he managed to keep a straight face as his breath drained out of him. When the Horror rumbled its discontent, he took a gasping breath before forcing a straight face. He couldn’t risk anything right now. 

It needed more sustenance when they first arrived back from the future since they spent more than a decade _dead._ Now, it felt full for the first time in ages. 

_“As for your siblings’ reactions, I imagine something similar to exposure therapy will help them overcome their fear of blood and gore. That will be a later experiment, however. The least affected was Number Four, to no surprise. He sees ghosts with much worse upon them than you had from the Swede’s death. Perhaps you two will be paired up more often.”_ Reginald’s voice drifted off, the loudspeaker still crackling with his breath. _“No matter. This is not about the team; this is about the individual ruining the team. Pogo, are we ready to commence?”_

“Of course, Master Hargreeves.” Pogo hadn’t written anything on the whiteboard as he returned to the cart. He no longer looked Ben in the eye as he shuffled back to the cart. His heart started pounding. It was bad enough Pogo felt bad before it even _started._ And Pogo rarely showed his emotions. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be such a good liar. 

Pogo opened the box, and seven heads popped up.

A laugh escaped before he slapped his hands over his mouth. When he managed to rein back the hysteria, he glanced up at the camera. ‘What… What do you want me to do with them, Dad?”

 _“Feed the Horror.”_ He said it as if it was as easy as watering a plant. He pressed a hand against his stomach, and he shook his head. His father ignored it. _“This time, however, I expect you to be neater about it. Get no bloodstains on yourself, and leave the room as clean as it started. I imagine Number Two will have some strong feelings upon seeing blood when we conduct his training should you fail.”_

Ben stared up at the camera, unable to move, until Pogo cleared his throat again. He stepped forward, hoping the hidden microphones weren’t good enough to pick his voice up. “Pogo, you can’t honestly expect me to…”

“Master Ben, if there was another way to train you, we would pursue it. However, Master Hargreeves believes this is the best way. He would not do it otherwise,” he said, and it sounded so sympathetic Ben almost believed it.

Almost. 

“Please don’t make me do this. Pogo… _Please.”_

“My apologies.” Pogo stepped back and claimed the chair next to the door.

From inside the box, one of the puppies yipped. 

_“Number Six, unleash the Horror.”_

Ben never knew dogs could have green eyes. He never bothered with animals. Reginald forbade them from bringing any home, and he _hated_ them as a ghost. After reading book after book marvelling at the softness of animals, he wanted to pet them. He wanted to hug them. He wanted to see if the phrase ‘man’s best friend’ still held up. Instead, Klaus snorted and called them mutts, and his brother never described it the way he wanted to. He wanted a novel from Klaus, describing it well enough Ben could feel it even though he couldn’t feel anything.

Allison bought a dog, actually. She set up an Instagram for it to increase her own press, and for his brief stint in Hollywood, he watched it tear up her couches and piss all over the floor. She couldn’t Rumor animals; she learnt that the hard way. Patrick adored the pitbull, though, and she struggled through with a smile.

When Klaus reported it died, Ben kept waiting to see that awkward pitbull following Klaus around. It never did… He never saw any dead animals, actually. Somehow, even they mastered the secret of passing on.

_“Number Six, unleash the Horror. Or would you prefer I bench you until you show even a rudimentary control of it?”_

The Horror was his own pitbull, tearing up his insides and pissing all over his mental health. Ben smiled at the comparison as he opened the portal. The tentacles burst out the second they could, arching into the air and spreading out as far as they could go as if stretching. He watched them with muted fascination, hellbent on keeping one hand on the controls this time.

One tentacle reached down, and the puppies continued to yip and bark. It scooped one up, separating it from its littermates, and they all whined, scrambling to try and get her back. The Horror dove through the air.

And then, it hovered from Ben’s face. When he held out his hands, it deposited the puppy there. 

“Oh,” Ben breathed. “You like them too, don’t you?”

It rumbled, and he felt its satisfaction a second later. He ran a hand through its fur, stroking it as it nuzzled and played against his hand. Ben smiled down at it. “Hi there, buddy. Wanna go back to your siblings? I know I wouldn’t want to be separated from them.”

_“Number Six! These were not the instructions!”_

“The Horror’s full, Pogo,” he said, still smiling at the puppy. The Horror swept back to the other ones, letting them nibble and paw and play with its slimy skin. He hoped he could push the happiness towards the Horror just like it shoved fear at him. If he knew this side of it existed, the side which wanted to cuddle with Klaus, the side which wanted to play with the puppies, he’d let it run amok more often.

Then again, this same being killed a man until he could barely be recognized not even a day ago. 

_“Number Six, I need to know you have control over it.”_

“I do. I… Watch.” Ben settled back, and he held the puppy for the Horror to take it. Then, feather-light, he pushed the suggestion into the Horror. Usually, it felt like writing with his hand closed in a fist. Every motion came jerky and strange as he fought to keep it from doing anything. Now, it felt like using a voice-to-text function, letting it write for him but still dictating what happened. 

All seven puppies were back in the box, and he let the Horror float in the air, enjoying its freedom. He didn’t want to pull back inside him yet; that will always be a fight he can’t avoid. “See? No harm done—”

_“The Horror may be ‘full,’ but I am commanding you to test it now. You will not always get the same luxury you have now. And yesterday demonstrated how little regard you have for public image. I need you to prove yourself—”_

“By killing babies?” 

_“I expect you know better than to take that tone with me, Number Six. I only seek to do what’s best for you, and since you have decided your own health is of little priority, I will do so forcibly. Pogo?”_

He can imagine Reginald on the other side of the microphone, shaking with anger. Maybe he clenched his cane as his hand shook, or maybe he paced around the room once to calm down. His father disliked showing visible discomfort, but when he watched them through cameras, he didn’t bother with the formalities. Any time he was out in the public eye, he kept his poker face. The only reason he knew it shattered alone was because his father never knew he watched from beyond the grave.

Ben glanced over as Pogo sighed. He got to his feet, and he pulled a syringe out of the coat pocket. “I apologise, Number Six.”

“Are you going to drug me?” This didn’t happen before. He didn’t… Well, Ben didn’t give them a reason to do it before. He’d follow along because he was selfish and wanted to make his father proud. And the Horror did what Ben wanted if it meant it got extra blood and fear. “Pogo, I don’t want—”

 _“When will you learn,”_ Reginald said, _“the difference between want and need?”_

“Pogo,” Ben said, voice growing stronger, “you can’t drug me. I don’t… You saw how the Horror reacted when you sedated it. And I don’t want to lose out on another day. Please, Pogo. I don’t _want_ this. I don’t _need_ this.”

“You don’t need what?” he asked softly.

Ben froze. 

And when Pogo took another step, the Horror swung out. Ben made no attempt to stop it; he just redirected it by yanking at it. It slapped, _hard,_ against Pogo’s hand, and the syringe went flying. When it hit the ground, another tentacle slammed against it, dispersing the liquid all over the floor. Pogo backed away, but Ben made sure none of them approached him. He didn’t want to be drugged, but he didn’t want to hurt anyone.

“I can control the Horror,” he whispered, more to himself than anyone else. Then, he shook his head and refocused. “No drugs, Pogo. Please.”

_“Number Six, I expect you to follow orders.”_

“And I _have.”_ Ben’s frustration bubbled up. The tentacles grew still in the air, priming to attack at the camera, and he grunted, yanking back at them. “You told me to combat any opponents we got. I got us out of the warehouse! All I’ve ever done is do what you’ve asked of me. I follow your orders. I try to be a good son and brother and teammate. And I don’t even _want_ this life.”

 _“Number Six!”_ he barked it like a curse word. 

That was what _Reginald_ named him, though. He lived and died as Reginald’s Number Six, and this time… If he had to die again, he’d be buried as Ben Hargreeves. He’d live as Ben Hargreeves. “What are we even training for? The police can handle the criminals, Dad. And the others… The Swedes and Li—the woman. _We_ brought them on ourselves because we advertised our powers. Can’t we be kids?”

_“This emotional outbreak of yours will not help—”_

“You train the others to hone their abilities. You train the others to discover new abilities. This,” Ben gestured at the Horror, “is all I am. We would’ve found something else by now. And _I_ can’t make the Horror stronger—”

_“Number Six—”_

“I won’t kill unless I have to. I won’t compromise on this one.” And Ben stared up at the camera, daring him to challenge it. What could Reginald do? Where had his authority even come from? 

_“Then Number Four will spend—”_

“No. He won’t.” Ben couldn’t let his siblings be threatened at his expense anymore. “I will fight you every step of the way. You raised us to be independent, didn’t you? So, fight your own battles. Stop relying on us to play mind games on ourselves.”

A silence fell.

 _“This conversation isn’t over.”_ Reginald’s voice came out curt, crisp. _“But we will discuss this later. The training session is over since you won’t improve.”_

“Because I won’t kill,” Ben said instead, and he pulled the tentacles inside him, and he walked away.

_(His heart beat so loudly; he could barely hear anything. And his vision blurred from the excitement, or lack of sleep, or fear. And when Pogo moved behind him, he flinched anyway, about to call on the Horror. Somehow, though, he managed to convince himself to mount the stairs, one shaky, painful step at a time._

_And he thought of that stupid list that got him trouble with Five._

_Did he just… Stand up to Dad?)_

-

“Klaus, have you seen Ben—” He heard the way Five cut off with a ragged breath. “Oh, fuck. I didn’t think…”

Ben rolled over in Klaus’s bed, blankets still hiked up. He offered a sleepy wave. “Hi.”

“Hi. I’m babysitting right now. You’ll have to make an appointment next time.” Klaus shifted from where he sat cross-legged on his bed, pitching his voice up in an attempt to mimic Grace. _“‘Number Five, if you wish to talk to your father, you’ll need to alert me ahead of time! Good little boys plan their schedule to a T! Number Five, why are you making that face at me? Good little boys do not throw pillows at their moth—_ ouch!”

Five glowered at him while Klaus rubbed at his chest. “I could’ve thrown it a lot harder. I didn’t expect to be dealing with both of you. I swear, the proximity to Klaus decreases the number of brain cells you possess.”

“Rude!” 

“It might be true,” Ben teased as he sat up.

Klaus’s jaw dropped. “Are you… Are you kidding me? I’ve tried, for the past _five minutes,_ to get you to lay down, and Five walks in and ruins everything? Ben, you need to sleep. And eat. And act like a regular human being.”

“I thought we were supposed to be superheroes.” He widened his eyes innocently.

He stabbed a finger in his direction. “I want a refund on brothers.”

“You can always leave.” Five leant back against the door, feigning nonchalance.

Klaus furrowed his brow. “This is literally my room.”

“What did you wanna talk about, Five?” Ben grabbed a pillow and held it against the still rumbling, still fighting Horror. It refused to let him sleep right now. It worked fine for Ben; the Swede still refused to leave him alone. “Oh… About yesterday… I’m sorry.”

 _“You’re_ sorry?” Five and Klaus parroted back, both in disbelief.

He nodded. “I thought about it a lot last night—”

“Because you didn’t sleep,” interrupted Klaus. 

Ben rolled his eyes. “I don’t think you can lecture me about self-care.”

“Harsh! I’ve been sober a whole two days! And there have been a lot of traumatic things in between now and then, so I, _personally,_ am very impressed by myself.” Klaus held out a hand for a high-five. Five rolled his eyes, and Ben gestured at the distance between the two. He snorted and high-fived himself.

 _“Anyway,”_ Ben shot Klaus a meaningful look, and his brother mimed zipping his lips shut. “Dad said some… Things to you last night. Right after the mission. And I don’t think any of us came up to you afterwards, and we should’ve because we’re a family. We’re not supposed… We don’t _have to_ deal with anything on our own anymore. If Dad tortures one of us, which he will, we should stand up for each other.”

“You sound like Diego,” Klaus commented off-handedly. “Are you developing a hero complex as well?”

“I don’t _need_ help dealing with my issues,” Five said instead. “This might shock you, but I’m a lot more stable than any of you. Dad’s words don’t affect me.”

“But they did. And I’m sorry.” Ben finally shoved off all the blankets and patted the spot on the bed. His brother stared at him in disbelief, shaking his head stubbornly. He sighed. “Five, you don’t have to be the toughest in the family. We all know you’re the most responsible and adult-like. But Dad fucked all of us up.”

“He said the fuck word—”

“Thank you.” Five stared at Ben critically. “Has Dad ever told you about your birth families? Or the countries you came from?”

“Nope!” Klaus popped the p.

Ben shrugged. “It didn’t really matter to me. All we have is this family, whether we like it or not. So we better get to liking it.”

“It’s just a challenge.” Five looked elsewhere, but there was something surfacing in his tone. Ben leant forward eagerly, ready to meet it. “What with the rest of our brothers being such dumbasses.”

“Oh, I—”

“Including Klaus, right?” Ben asked, offering a toothy grin.

Five nodded. “Of course. We’re the only smart ones in this family. Well, and Vanya.”

“Oh, definitely.”

“I don’t like this bonding moment,” announced Klaus. “I think brotherly love should include me.”

“It would if you were smarter.”

“I let you _sleep in my bed,_ and this is how you repay me?” He slapped a hand over his heart and swooned dramatically back down on the desk. Ben giggled before he could stop himself. “You know what, I don’t agree with Ben’s sentimentality today. I don’t even have this family to help me.”

“Help you what? Piss off Dad?” Five asked.

Klaus shot straight back up. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! These are bold words coming from public enemy one _and_ two this week!”

“Do you think Luther will be upset you’re Number One?” Ben cocked his head, trying his best to keep a straight face.

Five shrugged. “I think we all knew I was the true Number One.”

“Don’t say that _too_ loudly, or Lulu will come breaking down walls.” Klaus paused. “If anyone wants to be Number Four, feel free. I don’t want it anymore.”

“If _you_ don’t want to be Number Four, I can’t imagine why anyone else would want to be.” Ben tossed a pillow at him again. “‘Sides, screaming _‘Number Four’_ doesn’t have the same ring to it as Number Five and Six, you know? It just doesn’t sound as… Crisp and effective.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Dad’s pretty good at screaming my name too. The only ones he needs practice with are One and Three.” Klaus stuck out his tongue.

Five snorted. “Tell me about it. Sometimes, I want to ask Luther if it’s hard kissing Dad’s ass that much.”

“It’s a real—” Klaus cut off, cocking his head. “Do you hear that?”

“Dad’s spirit crying because we’re bonding?” Five suggested.

Klaus shook his head before stopping. “Well, yes, but… Five, move, move, _move._ I think I know what’s going on!”

“What are you—”

Klaus barreled past Five, shoving him away and throwing open the door. It took a few seconds for the chords to register before Five groaned. Ben grinned and sprung to his feet. Who _didn’t_ recognize this song in the family?

“I hate this song—”

“Wanna dance with me, Ben?” His brother yanked him in the hallway while Five trailed behind them. Ben always _hated_ dancing. He didn’t really understand how to do it, but on the bright side, nobody in the family could dance well either…

With the notable exception of Allison and Diego, who were already in the hallway. Diego did an elaborate set of flips, which made _no sense_ with the song, and Allison cackled. Klaus cheered, clapping, as Diego’s face went bright red. Then, their brother winked and went back to dancing with Allison, who twirled and twisted her boa elegantly.

Five started back towards his room. “I’m not doing—”

“Oh, _yes, you are!”_ Klaus tackled him into a hug before swaying and bouncing around him, arms full. Five snorted while Allison started laughing again. Ben grinned before dodging around them, sprinting towards Vanya’s room. Considering the music came from Luther’s room, he knew his oldest brother would be out soon enough.

He knocked on Vanya’s door, trying to calm his breathing. When she opened, he offered his hand with a bright smile. “It appears we’re having a dance party if you’d like to join us, Lady Hargreeves.”

“Oh, of _course,_ Lord Hargreeves.” A huge smile split her face as she took his hand, and he dragged her back towards the rest of their siblings. She paused. “I’m afraid I don’t know how to dance.”

“Have you seen Luther’s crab walk?” He let go of her hands to attempt it, and when she started giggling, he nodded. “If you can beat that, you’ll fit in with the rest of us!”

“Vanny!” Klaus spun around, still pulling Five along for the ride. Five’s gaze softened as he took in Vanya before he took advantage of Klaus’s distraction and shoved away. “C’mon, convince the sourpuss to stay. It’s the best song on the whole album.”

“Hang out with the rest of the family, Five!” Allison clapped her hands to the beat before spinning around again. Her hair smacked Diego in the face, and he spluttered. 

For lack of better dance moves, Ben started doing the macarena. Klaus’s face lit up as he copied him, but Klaus started going faster and faster until he became a cyclone of spinning limbs. Ben couldn’t stop laughing.

At some point, Luther shuffled out to join them with his awkward ass dance moves. Diego wasted no time making fun of him, and the two of them faced off in a weird battle. Allison dropped back to dance with Vanya, and Five ended up next to Ben, both of them awkwardly bouncing up and down to the rhythm. 

Five reached over and rested a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, uh. I’m glad you’re feeling better from yesterday.”

Ben glanced over, and he read his expression. This was Five’s equivalent of an apology. This was Five bearing his heart for Ben to see. And it wasn’t much, but he knew his brother. So, he grinned instead.

“Thanks, Five.” 

_The beating of our hearts is the only sound..._

-

The second they’re back in the same room as their father, the Horror started twitching. Ben gasped before he could grit his teeth, and Klaus sent him a concerned look. Then, he reached over and knitted their fingers together. He gave his brother a soft smile, trying to calm it back down. The last thing he needed was a sudden reappearance of the Horror, ready to fight everyone around.

Reginald fixed him with a steely look, and his blood ran cold. The Horror _yowled,_ slamming against the portal, and Ben tripped. Klaus’s hand anchored him back to the world, keeping him from falling flat on his face. “Geez, what did you do to piss off His Highness?”

“I didn’t kill puppies.” When Klaus gave him a wide-eyed stare, he nodded. “Yeah. That’s what our lives are, I guess.”

“He _wanted_ you to kill puppies?” Klaus said slowly, stretching out each syllable as if it’d make it make more sense. He snorted and made a face. “Well, we knew he didn’t like children. This seems like the logical next step.”

“Well, he definitely isn’t a fan of me—”

“Good thing _I’m_ a fan of you, and I’m the superior Hargreeves.” Squeezing his hand, his brother dropped it as he got into the line. Five glanced at them before nodding. Vanya stayed on Ben’s other side, vibrating with excitement. He didn’t specify she couldn’t come down here, which meant they’d be doing some kind of training she could join in. 

“Children, we will be spending time on something more domestic. It comes to my attention many of you lack etiquette and manners. We shall mend this, starting now.” Reginald nodded at Pogo, and he put on a record. Classical music filtered through the air, and Vanya’s eyes went wide. She must recognize the song. “I hope you have not forgotten your ballroom lessons. Since there is an odd amount of you, Grace will be joining in.”

Ben sniggered at how Diego’s face lit up. He knew what the pairings would be; they never allowed for many variations. Allison and Luther would always team up, Diego insisted on going with their mom, and Vanya and Five were too close to choose anyone else. It left Ben and Klaus, which Ben was perfectly okay with.

Later on, when Five disappeared, they rearranged these pairs. With an even number, Grace bowed out, and Klaus jumped at the chance to partner with Diego. _“No offense, but we do everything together, and I want to be with a_ good _dancer.”_

It stung a little, but he always enjoyed spending time with Vanya. 

With his death, the team unravelled too fast to do another lesson in ballroom dancing.

Klaus hurried back to Ben’s side with a bright smile. “Do you want to lead? Or do you want me to lead?”

“You can lead. I haven’t done this in awhile…”

“It’s easier to do high.” Klaus still guided his hands to his shoulders while his rested on Ben’s hips. “Less fear of judgment, I guess. That, and everything is easier to do high.”

“Complicated math problems.”

“I can’t do those sober, so the results are the same.” They started to sway to the music. It felt like riding a bicycle—or, at least, the saying about a bicycle. Ben didn’t know if he ever learnt how to ride one in the first place. According to Klaus, God rode it well in the afterlife, and that scarred Ben enough to never look at bikes the same way. This, though… He guessed people didn’t forget how to ballroom dance. He slipped back into the rhythm like an old habit, and he couldn’t stop his relieved smile. 

Klaus lowered his voice. “Let’s be honest. When are we ever going to use this?”

“I won’t.” 

He cocked his head. “You said that _way_ too fast. Got any plans for the future?”

“Get out of here alive?” It didn’t sound like a joke, and Ben pressed his lips together. “I don’t know. What can I even do in life that isn’t… This?”

“Anything,” Klaus said confidently. “If I can live to, like, thirty, you definitely can. If we had to place bets on who would die first, I’d bet on myself—”

Ben huffed out a laugh. “You wanna take that bet? Because, I don’t know if you noticed, but I have a monster inside of me.”

“My powers literally _involve_ death. It’s hard to bet that, Benny Boo.” Klaus dipped him, and Ben couldn’t stop laughing. Reginald scolded them from across the room, and he tried to swallow it back down. Klaus was giggling too, though. Allison and Luther, Vanya and Five might’ve had a moment doing that, but he knew Klaus and him couldn’t. They were… Well, if he ever considered one of them his siblings, it was Klaus.

It helped that he spent years _only_ talking to Klaus. 

“At least there aren’t many ghosts in the Academy,” Ben said.

Klaus fixated on something right over Ben’s shoulder. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that one… Can I tell you something weird?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s all you do.”

“Shut up.”

Ben laughed, and Klaus smiled before shaking his head, a little more solemn. “There’s this man following me around, and he keeps saying my name like… Like it’s something sacred or something. _‘Klaus, you look so cute when you’re little. Klaus, this is what your family looks like? Klaus, do you remember me?’”_

Ben missed a step.

Klaus covered it up with ease. “It’s weird. And, like, part of me is really tempted to talk to him. Which is weird because usually, the ghosts freak me out. But it’s like something inside of me knows him… Or something outside of me. God knows I have a thing for men in uniform.”

“That’s… Too much information.” Ben glanced over his shoulder as if he could see the ghost. If he was being honest, he wouldn’t know whether or not it was the same guy. He hadn’t been able to travel with Klaus. He was too preoccupied with Diego’s fallen girlfriend. “Uh… Has he told you his name?”

“Dave something?”

Ben stiffened before nodding. “Gotcha. That’s… Wow. That’s cool.”

“Do you know him? You’re acting super weird.” Klaus paused. “Weirder than usual.”

“No, I don’t. I…” Why did _Klaus_ have to be the one who could see ghosts? Future Klaus would slap Ben if he knew Dave followed around his younger self. He didn’t think ghosts could time travel—after all, Ben absolutely failed at it. But… He supposed Dave had already died in this timeline, apparently with Klaus there.

He wondered if ghosts’ memories got altered when they fucked with the timeline. Or, did they stay the same no matter what happened? His didn’t. He still remembered the future in vivid detail, and nothing changed, but he wasn’t a ghost anymore. But if he wanted to ask Dave, he’d have to go through Klaus and…

Huh.

Was Dave in the same boat Ben was in? He thought Dave had gone into the light unless Klaus somehow summoned him back. Or… Maybe the light wasn’t as final as Ben thought. Maybe it was more of an open door.

How was it that Ben died and he was _still afraid_ of what came next?

“He’s old too. It should be creepy… He looks so scandalized right now. Hi, Dave,” Klaus whispered, a joke trembling there, “you’re a pedophile.”

“Klaus! You shouldn’t joke about that!”

“He looks like he’s in love with me!” Klaus said defensively. “And I’m a lot younger than he is.”

“Sorry, Dave,” Ben tossed over his brother’s shoulder. “Klaus doesn't’ know what he’s saying.”

“It’s just my luck only ghosts could fall in love with me. I’m no charmer like Allison, but I would’ve hoped I appealed to the living too. Then again…” Klaus snorted, glancing down at himself. “I’m a fuckup—”

“Who people will love anyway. I love you anyway,” Ben interrupted. “And who knows? Maybe Dave will leave you alone…”

“That’s the worst part! I don’t think I want him to? Like… Every time I’ve almost taken a pill—why do you look so betrayed? Of course I have more hiding spots—Dave will make this face. _‘Klaus, you don’t need that. Klaus, you’re better without that. Klaus, it’ll hurt you more in the long run.’_ Which, like, isn’t anything I haven’t heard before, but it makes me feel bad enough I don’t take the pills? I don’t get it.” Klaus narrowed his eyes and glared in the direction of Dave. “I don’t get it. I feel like I’m missing something.”

“I don’t know what to tell you—”

_Crack!_

(The Swede’s bones snapping under the tentacles, the Swede’s face caving inwards, the Swede screaming and screaming and _screaming—)_

The ballroom music cut off with a high screech, and Five was staring at Vanya, confused. The two of them stood close enough to have knocked it off, but judging by the fear crackling off of them, that wasn’t how it broke. She stared at the record player on the floor before her head snapped to Ben. Her eyes still held a faint glow of white, fading back into the usual brown. Ben stumbled back from Klaus, and his brother followed, clutching at him, confused. 

Five stared at her. “Holy… Holy fuck. You _do.”_

“I do have… Oh my God,” Vanya whispered, staring down at her hands. “I…”

“Number Five! Number Seven! What is the meaning of this?”

Taking a step back from Vanya, Five whirled on Reginald. “You’ve been _lying_ to us. Do you even care about us?”

“Number Five, this is _not_ acceptable.”

“Five—”

“You were right, Ben,” Five snapped. “So I want to know why you’ve been manipulating her since she was _four years old.”_

Something shuttered shut on Reginald’s face, concealing his anger. Ben froze. He didn’t expect Five to confront him like this. 

Five scoffed at Ben. “What’s he going to do, Ben? How is he going to force us to forget? We’re not little kids anymore. We won’t just _forget_ with time. And he can’t force feed us pills. And he can’t do jackshit—”

Their father’s mask cracked a little as he clamped a hand down on Five’s shoulder. He flinched, but he tried to back away. Reginald didn’t care, though. “What _exactly_ was Number Six right about?”

_“Vanya.”_

“So that’s why you’ve been acting so disobedient as of late.” Reginald’s fingers curled into Five’s shoulder, digging in, as he made eye contact with Ben. “You think you will be the savior of your siblings. I’m growing tired of this rebellion of yours, Number Six. Yours as well, Number Five. What was given to you can be taken away just as easily.”

“And what exactly have you given any of us? A lifetime of trauma?” The blue swarmed around Five’s hands, and he gestured towards Vanya. “You ruined her life for _what?_ She was a _child.”_

“Number One.” Reginald shoved Five, and he stumbled back into Luther’s awaiting arms. Their brother locked his arms around him, sympathy written all across his face. Five thrashed.

He clawed at Luther’s arms. “Get off me, you big ape!”

Ben realized what would happen a second too late. The Horror started twisting inside of him, and it chanted inside his head. It was hungry again… And it was looking at its next meal. Ben shook his head, trying to clear the thoughts.

“Number Three. Come do me a favor.” He reached over, snagging her arm, and Allison gasped as he tugged her right in front of Five. He struggled harder upon seeing their sister.

Ben slid further back, and he bumped into Diego. At the pressure, he hiccuped, and it tasted like blood. Diego shoved himself in front of Ben as if to protect him, and he lowered his voice. “Ben, are you doing okay?”

“I’m...” He hiccuped again, and his stomach _crawled._ “I’m hungry.”

It grabbed Klaus’s attention, and his eyes immediately darted down to his stomach. Ben hugged himself tightly, glancing towards the staircase. The Horror pounded against the portal, desperate to get out, and Ben moaned, starting to sweat at the building heat. 

“Dad, I don’t want to…” Allison murmured, staring at Five.

He spat at her. “Then, _don’t._ Aren’t you sick of being pawns to him?”

“I bought you. I can sell you just as easily. Tell me, Number Three, who do you think would purchase such a pretty girl such as yourself? And if you even _look_ at me to try and Rumor me instead, I will break your jaw. Ask Number Four how good that feeling is,” Reginald hissed at her. He never heard Reginald act like this before. They fought with their father, sure, but it never escalated to _this_ point.

Ben hiccupped again, and he reached up. When he pulled his hand away, there was blood. _Oh…_ The Horror pushed against him again, reaching up and grabbing at his ribs. It twisted, and his chest exploded in pain. He staggered forward, trying to get away. He couldn’t… No Horror. Not yet.

Diego and Klaus were by his side in a second. Diego threw one arm over his shoulders. “Your room?”

“Y-yeah. Alone,” Ben panted, twisting around to try and see what happened with his other siblings. Klaus and Diego started to drag him up the staircase. 

“Dad…” Luther said, eyes flicking back and forth. 

Reginald’s face hardened. “I’ve grown much too tired of your insubordination.”

A lightbulb shattered over their heads. 

“Number Three, do it.”

One of his ribs _snapped._ The Horror refused to stop fighting within him, trying to get out no matter what. It crawled up and down his skin, flooding his senses, until all he could feel was the Horror. 

“Shit… Your room’s too far. We’re going to mine,” Diego muttered.

_“I heard a Rumor…”_

“Allison, please, please, _please,”_ Five begged, voice broken. “Aren’t you sick of the way he treats us? So what if he wants to ship us away?”

“I’m not giving up on this family. He’ll send us to different places,” Luther said, voice wavering. 

_“...that you couldn’t...”_

They were inches away from Diego’s room, and Ben started _screaming_ as it thrashed inside him. 

_“...use your powers…”_

They shoved him in the room, and Ben staggered back against the door, pressing his weight against the door. 

The Horror _exploded_ out of him, and he screamed as the skin tore open. Something sticky dribbled out of his mouth as it thrashed in the air, knocking all of Diego’s belongings to the ground. The glass on Grace’s cross-stitching shattered. His bed broke. The collection of knives went flying as Ben cowered in on himself. The Horror wasn't done, though. It punched at the window, sending the shards flying outwards. 

The whole time, the pain grew and grew _and grew._ His vision went red as he lost feeling in his toes, his fingers, his stomach. He begged and sobbed as its anger continued to mount, ripping him apart. Something shattered. His ribs broke. His thoughts went flying, unable to continue in anything more than fragments.

The Horror kept raging.

He thought he understood the monster. 

But in the same way Ben could never lose control, the Horror would never stop fighting for control. And the Horror had its next target, someone Ben could never allow him to touch. 

It wanted to kill his father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was soooo much fun to write, even if ben didn't have a great time experiencing it. every time i get to dig into the horror, i get excited because it's SUCH an interesting concept. I could gush about it all day. Because Ben is the most reasonable of the siblings, and he seems to be more introverted, and then the Horror is the ACTUAL opposite of him. I can't imagine it's a lot of fun sharing a body--for EITHER of the parties involved. because Ben gets to live his life, and the Horror is always locked up but on the other side of things, the Horror commits crime after crime and Ben has to live with the knowledge he helped.
> 
> Anyway, the horror and ben is a chaotic duo.


	7. the bridge is crossed (so stand and watch it burn)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And Ben breathed, slower and slower… And slower… And…
> 
> And then he was laughing as his senses slammed back into him. His vision cleared before spiking with red. His hearing shifted one last time, the echo of the world drowning out his high-pitched, tinny laughter. And the pain…
> 
> Ben couldn’t stop laughing. 
> 
> Because Ben was like Klaus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought the LAST chapter was hard to write! Oh my god! This one kicked my ass again and again, and I'm still not completely proud of it. It's surprisingly difficult to write whump completely from the whumped character who is kinda drifting in and out of consciousness...
> 
> On that note, get excited to read this chapter! We're officially HALFWAY done with the story, and I don't think about you, but I can feel it building up to something big :))

Ben drifted.

_ (His knees buckled as he fell to the ground. The Horror twisted, forcing him to land on his back instead of his stomach. The impact vibrated through him, and he felt something else tear and break.  _

_ His skin turned to glass, his muscles turned to ash, and his bones turned to dust. The pain trickled away, bit by bit, as the monster kept raging on and on. His thoughts fragmented and spiraled until he couldn’t understand them. His body jerked and spasmed with every thrash of the tentacles. _

_ He gave up.  _

_ He gave in. _

_ He gave the last of his control to the Horror.) _

Someone kept pounding on the door, shouting something. He thought it might be his name, but the syllables felt wrong. Then again, nothing felt right anymore. He watched the shadows flourish and wane on the floor, moving too fast to be real. 

All the monsters under his bed and in his closet finally emerged, ready to swallow him whole.

_ (The final scream dissolved on his lips in a wet gurgle. The blood splashed out, stretching across his face. His throat ached as sound refused to come. Instead, all he kept was short gasps. His labored breathing filled the air as the Horror found Diego’s knife collection and sent them flying. _

_ One tentacle plunged his brother’s favorite into the door, and it stopped rattling. Another took to stabbing the wall separating Diego and Klaus. It beat out the rhythm, almost hypnotic in its monotony.  _

_ Another reached back and lunged for Ben. He couldn’t move. Instead, he watched with a blank stare as its wet, sticky skin wrapped around his wrist, dragging it up to the sky. _

_ Then, it let go. _

_ His arm banged against the wooden floor with no resistance.) _

The Horror curled back inside him, and the second his skin sealed over, its exhaustion swept through him. Ben blacked out for only a second before the pressure came back. It rolled and writhed inside his stomach, trying to find the most comfortable way to fit there now. It almost felt too… Too big. It had fed too much, and it kept growing, and Ben only felt younger and younger as the days dragged on.

Something banged open. 

Ben didn’t move when someone gasped and started swearing. 

Ben drifted.

_ (He wanted to blackout. He wanted to fall asleep. He wanted to be anyone else. He wanted to be gone.  _

_ Instead, he watched his vision blur in and out of focus. One second, he could trace every crack on the ceiling. The next, the white made his eyes hurt, and his stomach rolled. Or a tentacle would reach up and rip out a lightbulb, startling him back to life—life was too generous. Back to consciousness. _

_ His hearing went a long time ago. Ben knew some sound from the outside world should still be drifting to him. If he tried, he could remember how loud the Horror was when it snapped, it crunched, it ruined the Swede. He didn’t try. He let his ears ring and echo with a shaky, quiet beat he prayed wasn’t his heart. _

_ His skin no longer belonged to him; it was the Horror’s. If Ben could smile, he would. He screwed it over—he gave it a broken body. Something wet pooled on his stomach, under his nose, around his mouth… And it convulsed, shivering, as the cold settled deep into his bones.) _

The Horror was back inside him… It only took another second for its feelings to register again.

It pushed through him as if he was made of paper, and its emotions invaded him. It wrote its story in his pages, punching holes with each stroke of its pen. He didn’t want them. He couldn’t process his  _ own  _ feelings. He could lose himself in the mess of the Horror. His heart rate sped up—the thumping  _ had  _ been his heart then—but it got drowned out by his sickly spluttering.

_ (Everything _

_ slowed _

_ down.) _

The Horror’s true feelings swept through him…

And it felt like he was looking at Klaus.

_ Lovefrustrationloveangerfearfearjealousylovedesperationsorrylovelovelove. _

Someone bowed down next to him, fingers fumbling and hot against his neck. “B-Ben?”

Ben hiccupped. 

_ (And Ben breathed, slower and slower… And slower… And…) _

And then he was  _ laughing  _ as his senses slammed back into him. His vision cleared before spiking with red. His hearing shifted one last time, the echo of the world drowning out his high-pitched, tinny laughter. And the pain…

Ben couldn’t stop laughing. 

“B-Ben, you… Oh, God… Oh, s-s-shit.”

Because Ben was like  _ Klaus.  _ Because the Horror wanted to interact with his siblings, but it could only ever talk to Ben. Ben was his only connection to the real world; Ben acted as his voice. No matter how much it wanted to be a part of this world, Ben was its tether. It didn’t get to choose its own life. It didn’t get  _ choices.  _ It could hear, it could look, but it couldn’t touch. It couldn’t interact.

It was a ghost still… It always lived life as a ghost. 

Ben’s giggles turned to sobs. It turned to silence.

Ben passed out.

-

_ (“Ben? Hey… It got quiet… Is everything alright? Ben…? Where are—Oh. No. W-w-wait. Ben, hey… Ben… It’s time to get up… Ben… Ben, y-y-you can’t. I… No. No, no, no, no. Please w-w-w-wake up. B-b-ben…”) _

_ - _

Ben woke up. 

As he drifted, back and forth between consciousness, the Horror pressed into him. It never let him stray too far. Its emotions refused to let up; he couldn’t rebuild the wall separating their existence. Right now, they were impossibly bonded. Every time his eyes closed, it spiked with fear. He felt it in the way his already cold, cold, cold skin got clammier. He felt it in the way it writhed in his stomach. He felt it in the stiffness in his decaying muscles.

It wiggled about as he tried to open his eyes. It curled inside him, roping from his front to his back. He wondered if it meant it like a hug… Maybe it even qualified as an apology. His broken ribs weren’t quite so ready to let go of Ben’s frustration. Recoiling from that thought, the Horror stilled. 

“B-B-B-Ben?”

“Di…” He breathed out. More than one syllable would be too ambitious. Right now, he still couldn’t muster the energy to see. 

Something splattered on his cheek again. Diego’s voice shifted, more constricted. “W-we need to go see M-m-mom. C’mon… Can… Can you sit up?”

Ben knew the answer was no. 

He reached back for the Horror at the back of his mind. Maybe it could give him the extra push of energy since it seemed to have stolen his. The second he brushed against it, it sent waves of emotions through him. He gagged from the intensity, from the way his mind fogged over until only the Horror remained. 

_ Safetycomfortloveprotect. _

“The… The Horror…” Ben mumbled, straining to get the words out clearly. They tangled in his mouth. “Says you… You… Make it… Feel safe.”

He slumped deeper into the wood while he imagined Diego flinched back. This, he thought as he waded through the Horror’s love for his brother, must be what possession feels like. He always felt like his body didn’t belong to him, not alone at least. Now, it felt like he was the foreign invader, along for the ride but unable to control anything. He’d backseat drive while the Horror dictated his life. 

It’d be like being a ghost again.

It’d be like being the Horror.

Klaus once told him possession terrified him more than anything else. The ghosts couldn’t touch him, not unless he let them. And most of the time, he muted his powers so much it couldn’t even happen by accident. Possession meant they’d control him. When they were eleven, he refused to sleep for a week to make sure no ghosts tried to steal his skin. 

Ben always debated the risks of doing it anyway. If he could, would he? He missed being alive. He missed talking to his siblings. He missed… He missed  _ everything.  _

His world tilted on its axis, and his chest caved in. He wheezed and coughed as something pressed in on him, constricting him further. Ben couldn’t  _ breathe.  _ It all stung and twisted, and every breath tasted like poison. 

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Diego chanted in his ear. “But w-w-we gotta get to Mom.”

Ben tried to say something, but it gurgled in the blood pooling over his lips. He didn’t know what it’d come up as.  _ Thank you? It’s okay? I’m okay? I wouldn’t leave you this soon… We have at least three years left? _

Maybe it was for the best he couldn’t speak.

His breathing evened out as Diego rushed them towards the door. Still erratic, still painful, but he could breathe. He’d take it. Letting his head loll against Diego’s shoulder, he tried to speak again. This time, it came out coherent. “I… I’m tired, Di…”

“I know. But s-sleeping isn’t an option right now.” He glanced down at Ben and smiled at him. He supported almost all of his weight; Ben almost felt bad about it. Every time he tried to move his feet, though, they caught against the wood and tangled back up. 

He tried anyway. “Why… Why did Luther carry me…?”

His expression darkened. Diego glanced away from him, and when he spoke again, it came out even tighter and crisper. His stutter vanished in the face of his anger. “We don’t have time to talk about that jackass.”

“Oh…” Ben tried to force his memories into a line. What happened before the Horror exploded? The day floated around in his mind, milky and unclear, but he knew he could figure it out. Ben worked with less before. It used to almost be a game… Whenever any of them woke up in the infirmary, they never explained what happened. He thought Reginald implemented it at first… It made the most sense. Only he would make such a cruel game while one of their siblings was concussed or dying or drugged up. 

The Horror pushed at him— _ angerfearpassionfearfearFEARbloodhungryanger. _

“Dad…” It always went back to their dad.

Diego stiffened before nodding. “Something like that.”

“Dad…” he repeated, rolling the name on his tongue, trying to remember what happened. It was  _ right there,  _ but it hurt to even think. The exhaustion started to pull at him again, almost ready to tug him into sleep. 

The Horror brushed against one of his broken ribs, and he gasped, vision going black.

When he came back to, Diego had them braced against the wall, panting and swearing. Ben offered a wobbly smile. “S-sorry.”

Diego wasn’t looking at him though. 

On the other side of the hallway, Luther stood by his door. He gripped it, hard enough it looked like the wood began to fracture from his touch. Ben couldn’t make out his expression; he didn’t think he’d want to. Diego growled next to him, low and deep in his chest, more curses bubbling up. 

“What happened to Ben?” Luther asked after a few seconds, taking a hesitant step forward.

That was all Diego needed to spring back to life. He shoved against the wall, getting them back towards the infirmary. “You wouldn’t know. You were too busy sucking Dad’s dick.”

“That’s not fair—”

“I think Five would think it’s p-perfectly fair,” he spat, and Luther took a step back.

Then, he cleared his throat and stepped forward again. As Diego dragged him on, Ben tripped over his feet. He  _ should  _ say something… But instead, he dedicated all his attention to stumbling along. “Let me carry him at least. He’s obviously too much for you—”

“Fuck you.”

“Diego, let me  _ help.” _

“Oh, I’m Diego now? Would’ve thought you went back to  _ Number Two.”  _ He barked out a laugh, and Ben frowned at the way it felt. It damaged the air around them. He struggled to breathe again. “I’m not letting you touch a single one of our siblings again.”

“I didn’t have a choice,” Luther insisted.

Diego snorted. “I didn’t see me or Klaus adding ourselves in. So, I think you did have a choice.”

“He was threatening—”

“And he succeeded, didn’t he?” Diego’s grip turned forceful. “C’mon, Ben, let’s go.”

Ben looked between the two of them. “Don’t… Don’t fight.”

“See? Diego, please—”

“Hell no. Just because Ben has a bleeding heart doesn’t mean I do.” He lowered his voice as if to tell him a secret, but he kept it loud enough Luther could make out every deliberate word. “Didn’t you know siding with Luther meant he’ll let Dad do anything he wants to you? He wouldn’t even try and stop him.”

“Luther—”

Diego didn’t wait for him to gather the breath for the next word. “Didn’t you know he’ll even let Dad strip you of your powers? Just ask Five! He’s been bumping into shit all day because he keeps forgetting he can’t jump!”

“Luther—”

“Didn’t you know the only one he cares about in this family is Allison? The rest of us can burn in hell for all he cares.” Diego snorted. “Some team leader.”

“Diego, that’s not fair.” Luther’s voice sounded stronger now. It usually meant the two of them would fight soon.

Ben passed out.

-

_ (“Diego, I’m the team leader. You have to let go of Ben. You’re struggling, and I wouldn’t, and—” _

_ “N-n-n-no.” _

_ Someone screamed before dissolving into sobs. _

_ “Diego, we have to move fast if we’re going to save him. You have to let me—” _

_ “N-n-no. H-he’s m-m-m-my br-br-brother…” _

_ “He’s mine too!” _

_ Someone was still screaming.  _

_ “Ben—”) _

-

Ben floated. 

Nearby, a machine beeped with the pounding of his heart, still echoing in the back of his head. Over the top of that, someone played violin. It swelled like a wave before crashing down, surrounding him. He breathed in the crescendo; he breathed out the decrescendo. He could live like this for the rest of his life.

She drew her bow over the strings. It fluttered out like an exhale. 

The Horror pushed him against him, and he moaned. The violinist paused, and then a familiar weight settled into his hand. “Hi, Ben. Are you going to wake up this time?”

“V’nya?” He peeked out at her before smiling, drawing out the syllables. “Hey, Vanny.”

“Are you feeling better?” She leant back in the chair next to his… Bed? Cot? Ben shifted, trying to glance around, but he didn’t get very far. Something pulled at his wrists, and his ribs whined its discontent. Ben frowned. Vanya went red. “Oh… Dad came in after Mom started to treat you, and he has, uh, a theory on what happened. So he’s trying to be better safe than sorry… I’m sorry, Ben.”

“What?” He lifted as much as he can, ignoring the flare in his chest. The heart monitor began to race, and he mumbled a curse. Vanya squeezed his hand tighter, and he worried he might lose feeling before snorting out a laugh.

They changed him out of his uniform at some point. Now, he wore the itchy pajama pants, and his torso got a mess of bandages wrapping up his ribs. His left arm was slung out, an IV hanging there. And there it was… Metal shackles on his wrists and ankles to keep him from being able to escape.

“Dad’s worried, uh… You won’t be in control of the Horror,” she explained. Her eyes shifted out the window as if waiting to see if their father would appear out of nowhere. “You are in control of it, aren’t you?”

“Think so. We’ve…” Ben laughed. He  _ must  _ be on the good stuff; the Horror barely moved inside him, doped up by association, and everything felt funnier. That, or the blood loss still got to him. “We’ve bonded.”

“It broke your ribs.”

“Accidents happen.”

“Was it? An accident?”

Ben hesitated, thinking it through. He didn’t think the Horror would ever hurt him, not if it viewed him like it viewed Klaus. It seemed like a moment of frustration and anger. It reacted to Reginald in the only way it could. If Ben could throw things as a ghost, he imagined he would’ve caused a lot of havoc when Reginald treated his siblings so badly. “I… Think it was. I’m not really sure, to be honest.”

The Horror moved at that. Its thoughts filtered through, and Ben closed his eyes to let them sink in. All of his own thoughts moved sluggishly from the IV, so interpreting its became a challenge. Still, he felt its distant remorse and regret. 

Vanya laughed softly. “Are you… Talking to it? Now?”

“Yeah…”

“You got a new power then.” Her voice was nothing but warm. When he glanced at her again, though, she worried her lip and wrung her hands. 

He frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“I… I, uh, do have powers, don’t I?” Her eyes drifted over to the window this time. 

He glanced at the clock instead. It took him a minute to get his eyes to focus well enough to read its face.  _ 6:22.  _ They must be doing morning warmups without him… He wondered when Diego and Luther found him. He didn’t keep track of the time, but he knew it must’ve been late. 

How long had Ben slept? Because he still felt absolutely exhausted.

“Ben?”

“Mm?”

“Do I have powers?”

“Yeah…” He focused on his sister and offered his brightest smile. She flinched back. Running his tongue over his teeth, he realized what probably stained his teeth still. Coughing up blood tended to do that. “That’s a good thing, isn’t it? I thought you wanted them…”

“They seem like they’ve caused more problems than they’ve fixed.” She reached up and started fiddling with her hair. “And… And Dad always says if you can’t control your powers, they’ll control you. Isn’t that gonna make me…?”

“Hurt yourself?” he asked. “Like me?”

She shook her head. “No! Well… Maybe a little. But our powers seem different. I just don’t… Am I supposed to just strike a pose? What am I supposed to do with these? And I’m not going to be able to—”

The screen of the heart monitor shattered.

“Shit! This… This keeps happening. I’m trying to avoid Dad right now.” She laughed awkwardly. “I’d ask Five how to handle things, but he…”

“He…?”

“He locked himself in his room. And breaking in isn’t the best idea. He wouldn’t even come in and visit you… Everyone else did.” She glanced towards the door again. “I think Klaus and Allison almost got into a fight. I… I don’t care.”

“What?” 

She lifted her chin, defiant, angry. “Allison Rumored my powers away in the first place, didn’t she? So I wouldn’t know I have them?”

“I don’t—”

“It’s the only thing that makes sense. She gets… She gets  _ everything.”  _ A tendril of jealousy spiked through her words. As she scooted back, just out of reach, Ben tried to follow before the shackles kept him down. He mumbled a curse, trying again. Maybe… Maybe he’ll let the Horror free him.

It rumbled its consent.

Vanya spoke, a familiar anger there. “What’s different about me and Allison? We’re his  _ only daughters,  _ but everyone loves her. She gets to be in the front of groups for press releases, she gets to hang out with all of you, she gets to be the front cover of every teenage magazine, she gets to  _ take away my powers!  _ What’s fair about that? Why do I have to be the outcast of the family? Why can’t I—”

She gestured, her skin taking on that white glow. Before he could warn her, she made a movement near his bed. It sent the cot skittering across the floor, flying towards the window. Vanya screamed, and Ben let the Horror emerge.

The tentacles broke the bandages as it lunged outwards, catching on the sides of the room with its suction cups. Ben panted as the pain bubbled up and over, blurring all of his thoughts. As it started to settle him back down, he glanced over at Vanya.

She reached for him as his vision fogged again.  _ Shit.  _ “Ben, I—”

He passed out.

-

_ (“Hey… H-hey, Ben. They told me you were… Uh. They told me you were hurt. But I didn’t think it was this bad. They told me to… To sit with you. Because they had other things to do. And I’m… I’m really fucking high. I fucked up. Don’t you want to wake up and yell at me? C’mon, lemme have it, Benji!” _

_ … _

_ “Ben?” _

_ … _

_ “Oh, God… I’m sorry. It wasn’t... I wasn’t… No. No, I’m not ready to let you go.”) _

-

The Horror rumbled inside Ben, waking him up. It pressed against him, full of remorse and regret again, and he tried to shoo it away. What good would that do? Besides, it didn’t feel like a choice. If he could avoid going out of the window, he was going to take that option. The Horror settled back down at the explanation. 

The pressure didn’t ease up. He went to hug his stomach before the shackles stopped him again. Right. He was a danger to society right now. He huffed out a tiny laugh, stirring enough to open his eyes to the light flooding across the room. At some point, the morning light settled into something brighter, more consistent. How long had passed since he laid here, prone and unable to move?

He glanced farther into the room, trying to make the objects make sense. All of them blurred into blobs; they upped the dosage. Because he needed more painkillers or because they needed to sedate the Horror? He didn’t know. He doubted he would. Someone had rebandaged his ribs at some point, but they ached even with the cloud of drugs corrupting his thoughts.

In the doorway, someone stood and watched him. He squinted and found light bouncing off blonde hair. It must be Grace then… Or maybe Luther? But why would Luther want to visit him? He seemed pretty put out by Diego.

Still, the longer he stared at him, the more sure he became it  _ must  _ be Luther. He ignored the cotton which built up in his mouth. If he sounded weird, what would Luther do? Run away? “Luther? ‘S that you?”

“Yeah…” He sounded like he’d been crying. 

Luther didn’t cry; Dad forbade any of them from crying. At his funeral, the only two who could cry were Allison and Vanya. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” His brother crossed the room and claimed the seat Vanya sat in before. He hesitated before reaching down, sneaking his fingers in the gap between his wrist and the shackle. Ben stared at him right as something  _ snapped.  _ He flinched away from the noise, from the splintering metal. As he tried to ignore the way his ears rang, Luther reached over and did the same on the other side.

Ben slid his hands free, cutting the side of his right wrist enough it started to bleed. He held it up, squinting at the crimson running down his arm. It didn’t hurt. When he jerked his left wrist free and the IV popped out, it didn’t hurt. He smiled.

It hit the next second, and he whimpered.

“Sorry, sorry. I… I know I need to learn how to be more gentle.” Luther laughed, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck. “It’s not really good of me to hurt you guys. I…”

“You haven’t hurt me,” Ben said as Luther shuffled away to dig out more bandages. He twisted his wrist to get the blood to spiral down his forearm instead. It stung. It felt like a fire starting in his veins, rippling through the rest of his body. He coughed, and more blood spluttered out. The fire burned on. 

His brother held them up triumphantly, but he dropped something else. Ben sat up as much as he could, twisting until his vision spotted over, to find what he dropped. “Lu, you… What? Isn’t that…?”

“I thought it might make you feel better. I, uh… Diego said I didn’t know any of you. Not really. And I wanted to prove him wrong, but I realized you probably aren’t in the right state of mind to do this—”

“Is that  _ Jane Eyre?”  _ Ben interrupted. He recognized it as one of his books… Most of them looked the same on the outside though. Most of the books came from the library; their father encouraged his interest in classic literature. The only one he didn’t encourage was his gas station romance novels (and Ben didn’t intend to kick that habit any time soon. They might not be Shakespeare, but they made him smile). 

Luther scooped it up and placed it next to Ben, avoiding eye contact. Instead, he grabbed his wrist hard enough to make him yelp. He flinched. “Sorry. I… Yeah. It’s  _ Jane Eyre.  _ But you probably can’t focus enough to read. You… It sounds like something happened when Vanya came to visit? The Horror overreacted?”

“The Horror—”  _ They didn’t know about Vanya’s powers yet.  _ “It’s hurt; it’s lashing out a little. It never was gonna hurt Vanny though.”

“That’s not what Dad—”

“I know the Horror better than Dad,” Ben interrupted, tired. 

Luther glanced at him as he finished fixing up his wrists. Finally, he nodded and made to leave. “This… This was a mistake. I don’t know how to do this. Diego was right; I’m not good enough to lead. I’m not a good enough Number One—”

“I like  _ Jane Eyre.”  _ He closed his eyes, trying to force his memory to work with him. “What was its first line again? Uh…  _ ‘There was no possibility…’” _

Luther flipped open his worn copy. It looked so small in his hands already, and he hadn’t even gotten his body enhanced by their father yet. He cleared his throat, and his words wavered. English wasn’t his subject. They all knew that; Luther could deal with data, but words went over his head. It became even more obvious when he got sent to the moon and sent back only lab reports for four years.  _ “‘There was no possibility of taking a walk that day.’” _

“Right…” Ben smiled. “I haven’t read that one in awhile. It’s… It’s sweet. You’d like it. It’s a romance. Allison would probably like it too.”

“I don’t think either of us is a big reader… Not like you.”

Ben was starting to fall asleep again, but he wouldn’t let his eyes shut. He’d be able to pull this scheme off. He might not be Klaus or Five, but he could do a pretty good job. “You guys haven’t found the right books yet… I think… Allison would probably like screenplays. And you’d like science fiction. You always wanted to go to the moon, Spaceboy—”

“No.”

“W-what?”

Luther stared at him, wide-eyed, and his fingers dug into the cover. “I… I don’t want to go to the moon.”

“Since when?” That was a staple of life. Luther loved space; he  _ chose  _ the alias of Spaceboy. Nobody else got to pick theirs. After all, theirs got dubbed by the public, and if they didn’t like them, they had to  _ grow  _ to like it before it was too late. As much as Ben disliked ‘the Horror,’ he knew he wouldn’t respond to anything else. “I thought… Space, you know.”

“I… What’s up there for me? I want to stay with you guys. I want to protect you guys. I want to go on missions until—” He cut himself off before he could finish the sentence.

Ben frowned. “You’re not gonna die anytime soon. We’re…”  _ Almost thirty.  _ “Kids.”

“We can still die as kids. Do you really think any of us will last as adults?”

“Yeah. I do.” Ben had seen it. And even if it wasn’t the life he would’ve chosen, Luther had lived that long. Luther glanced at the door as if he might bolt, and Ben changed the topic. “I can’t read right now… I kinda have a headache. And a stomachache. And an everything-ache.”

“I know, it was stupid—”

“But I can listen.” He offered a hopeful smile. 

Luther froze as the words washed over him. Then, he settled down for the long haul, cracking open his book again. Ben offered an encouraging smile before letting his eyes shut. “It’s… It’s long. I don’t think I’ll be able to stay that long.”

“Just a little then.”

“Just a little then,” his brother echoed.  _ “‘There was no possibility of taking a walk that day. We had been wandering, indeed…’” _

Ben passed out.

-

_ (“Allison, please… Talk to me. Let me know what you’re thinking. Let me help you—” _

_ “This isn’t about you. Leave me alone.” _

_ “Allison—” _

_ “You’re just going to report it to Dad, aren’t you?  _ ‘Number Three wouldn’t stop crying. Number Three acted like a complete baby.’”

_ “You know me! You know I wouldn’t do that!” _

_ “Really? I think that’s exactly what you’d do. Besides, you want to protect the family? Good fucking job.” _

_ “Allison—” _

_ “I’m… Sorry. That’s mean. But… Just leave me be.”) _

-

If he could read the Horror’s mind, he imagined it’d be screaming  _ ‘what the fuck’  _ at him. But, he couldn’t. It wasn’t a two-way street like most of their relationship. He leant against the wall as he limped down the hallway. His legs still felt detached from the rest of his body, and walking felt like floating. He tripped before he left the infirmary… He might be bleeding. Something wet trickled down his forehead, but it didn’t hurt. 

He didn’t remember the hallway being this big. Every time he glanced down, it stretched out further. He wouldn’t be able to reach his room. Not unless he wanted to walk into that bright white light at the end of the hallway he didn’t remember… It might take him days just to walk that far. 

At some point, Ben caught sight of the camera with its blaring red light. He watched as it turned. Left. Straight. Right. Straight. Left. He lost track of time staring up at it, wobbling on his feet. 

He went back to walking, one foot in front of another. If he looked down, it looked like the wood ate his foot. He giggled at the thought. He curled his toes into the wood, enjoying the coolness. His whole body felt like it was on fire… He sweated and panted and it felt like something Klaus would have instead of him. What was he thinking of? He could’ve sworn Klaus went through something like this once…

The camera sped up. And slowed down. And time pulsed and ebbed around him, going too fast and too slow to comprehend. As he pushed his way down the hallway, staggering now, he tried to remember where he wanted to go. Why did he leave the infirmary in the first place? He had to do something. With one of his siblings.

He had a lot of siblings.

Ben kept walking. The hallway kept growing. His hand slid off the wall, and his knees threatened to buckle. When he glanced over, he left a mix of blood and sweat on the wallpaper. Dad would be furious with him. Maybe he’d say it was something else… Would he believe Klaus left it behind? Klaus always took the blame for things.

He placed his hand back on the wall. It felt slimy underneath his skin now. He scowled at it before pushing towards the next room. He knew he  _ should  _ know the layout of the hallway. Where was the infirmary? It was on the… Second floor? Third floor? Did they have a third floor?

His knee buckled again, and he marvelled at his hand instead. Shouldn’t it be passing through the wall? Wait, no. Ben wasn’t dead. Not anymore. Ben was very, very, very much alive. And something was wrong. Was that why he left the infirmary to begin with? Did he need to tell someone something went wrong? But… That was too vague. How were they supposed to fix what was wrong with him?

Ben needed to think harder. 

Ben fell against the ground.

It didn’t register until he laid there, staring at the wood lining at the bottom of the wall. He reached out, tracing it with his bloodied finger. It felt spongey now. It felt like he could sink his whole hand through it… But when Ben pressed against it, nothing gave. He frowned. Something should’ve, shouldn’t it?

“Leave me alone!” someone shouted.

He laughed. Why did his throat hurt so much? Had he been screaming? Oh, wait, right. Why hadn’t it hurt before? Ben glanced at the blood smeared in the crook of his elbow. No more painkillers. “S-sorry!”

He almost missed their response, quiet and unsure. “Ben?”

“Yup—” His stomach gurgled, and he hiccupped. “And the Horror. Sorry, buddy…”

The Horror writhed, and it sent out a wave of concern. He nodded in sympathy. He wanted to know what was wrong with Five too. The Horror poked at him, insistent he got that wrong, but he ignored it. He knew he was right. Why wouldn't the Horror want to protect Five? Something had happened to him.

Was  _ that  _ why he was in the hallway?

A door creaked open, and his brother eased out. For a second, Ben thought he should be wearing bowling shoes. Then, he remembered and laughed instead. “Ben? Why are you on the ground? Why  _ aren’t  _ you in the infirmary? I thought they had Grace and Pogo watching over you.”

“I dunno…” He giggled as Five offered a hand to him. He took it and gestured with his other hand… The one bandaged and bleeding. “Can’t you just… Blink us? You know…  _ Pop.” _

“No,” Five said stiffly. He glared down at Ben, and Ben’s bottom lip wobbled. No. No, he wouldn’t cry. Five just… Was  _ mean  _ sometimes. He usually wasn’t mean to Ben, but maybe this time around, he would be. “Are you… Christ, Ben, do you think you could attempt to take care of yourself better?”

“Nah.” He offered a dopey smile as his brother managed to get him back on his feet. Five ushered them into his room, slamming the door shut and shoving him down on the bed. Ben frowned at how itchy the blankets were; they weren't this bad last time… Oh. It was because he laid on top of thousands of wadded up pieces of paper. He pulled one out and tried to uncrinkle it.

He couldn’t read it. The words bumped into each other. 

The next one he uncrumpled was easier to read. Between the green landmasses and the landscape of blue, he figured it out fast. “Is… Is this a map of the world? What are you doing, Five?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Does it have to do with the… The no blinking?” The memory collided with him right then and there, and he beamed. “The thing with Allison?” 

Five snorted. He fluttered around the room, occasionally banging his knee against something and exploding with curse words. “It’s nice to see your fever hasn’t melted your remaining brain cells.”

“I have a fever?” He fumbled and ended up slapping himself in the face in an attempt to feel his forehead. “I don’t feel hot.”

“That’s… Never mind. We can talk about this when you’re more stable. I don’t want you to give anything away—” Five turned around to see Ben pouting. “Are you serious? Suck it up. I’ll tell you when you feel better.”

“But I wanna know now.” The high-pitched whine he attempted dislodged  _ something  _ in his gut. He coughed, hard, and when he finally came back up for air, blood speckled his fist. Ben frowned and swiped his finger through one of the droplets.

Five swore and stomped over, slapping his hand. Ben stared at his now red hand as it ached. “Don’t act like a  _ child,  _ okay? Ben… Fine, you know what. It’s not like you’re on Dad’s good side either. Do you really want to hear my plan that badly?”

“Yes,” he croaked. Why did his throat hurt so much more now?

His brother’s eyes glinted. “We’re going to run away.”

_ “What?”  _

“If we stay here, we’ll die. Look at yourself, Ben. You won’t be able to last any longer with his training. And I can’t do anything without this sword hanging over me. I’m  _ nothing  _ without my powers. The second I get them back, we’re leaving. I can’t live a life like… Like  _ this.”  _ Five gestured at himself as if there was something noticeable.

Ben blinked. “But you’re so much more than your powers—”

“Grow up.”

“I have.” He glared at Five, and the words sat there, ready to be taken. He could tell Five the truth. For a second, he let himself indulge the fantasy. Spilling all the secrets of the future would get a weight off of him. He could finally explain why he acted so strangely all week. With that, Five would know better than to time travel.

And then, the Commission would put a bullet through one of their heads.

All of a sudden, Ben’s blinking back tears, and Five stumbled backwards, confused at the flip of emotion. “I… I…  _ Fuck.” _

“We’ll wait,” Five said in a low tone, “until you feel better too. I won’t leave you. You’re… You’re my favorite brother.”

“I love you too, Five.” Leaning forward, Ben practically collapsed on top of his brother. He shoved him back, forcing him to lie on the bed instead. He stared up at the ceiling. “Luther and Allison wouldn’t come with us.”

“Then fuck them.”

“We’re a family, Five.”

“Seriously? You’re going to lecture me about family right now? In case you forgot, they’re the reason I don’t have  _ powers  _ right now.” His venom rose up again. Ben twisted to stare at him, wide-eyed, and he dialled it back a notch. “I… Look. We can talk about this later. Like I first said. Because right now, you’re staring at me like a kicked puppy, and I’m not going to be able to do this.”

“We’re family,” Ben insisted, and he pretended he didn’t feel the tears boiling over. They splashed, too cold on his too hot skin. It felt like it’d start melting under the pressure. He didn’t need another reminder of being the Horror in the family. He couldn’t… 

Five sat down on the bed.  _ “We  _ might be family. You and me and Vanya. Everyone else?”

“You loved them enough—” The Horror pressed against him, cutting him off with a gasp. It was for the best… He wasn’t allowed to finish that sentence.  _ You loved them enough to survive decades alone in order to get back to them. You loved them enough to kill people. You loved them even when you couldn’t find the bodies of your two favorites in the family. You will love them, even if you don’t right now. _

Instead, Ben gasped and spluttered, the sobbing turning his vision black. Five panicked by his side. He barely noticed.

Ben passed out. 

-

_ (“Oh, dear… Give him here. I will give him a quick once-over!” _

_ “T-t-thank you, M-m-mom.” _

_ “Number One! I expect a full report!” _

_ “Yes, sir…” _

_ “Number Two through Four… I expect you to stop crying soon. It does not reflect well on the future if you cannot handle a little blood and gore. We have not even gotten a chance to check your brother over.” _

_ “Dad—” _

_ “Number Three, I will hear none of that until the tests confirm our suspicions!” _

_ “Dad? What’s going on?” _

_ “Vanya…”) _

-

Ben couldn’t focus.

It felt like swimming with weights tied to his feet. Every time he thought he could stay awake, something would latch on and drag him back down under the waves. He’d drown in the silence, in the darkness which awaited him every time his eyes rolled back. And when he fought back to the surface, the fight refused to let up. He’d flail and fidget until he managed to stay afloat long enough to have a meaningful conversation.

He barely remembered leaving Five’s room and ending up in Klaus’, but he must’ve. 

“Something’s wrong,” he mumbled to Klaus.

His brother didn’t move. He painted Ben’s nails on his ratty comforter, tongue poking out in concentration. While Ben’s whole body trembled from exhaustion, Klaus moved with a laidback precision. “Nothing’s wrong, Benji. You’re not feeling well, and I’m trying to make you look fabulous anyway. You’re welcome.”

“But something’s wrong,” he tried again. Something nagged at him, in the back of his mind, he forgot something important. The Horror kept echoing the same thought, spiking his anxiety higher and higher. What had he forgotten, though? What crucial detail could make or break today?

Klaus glanced up. “Have you eaten today? Or slept?”

“I’ve slept loads today,” he said.

“Blacking out doesn’t count.”

“I haven’t slept today.”

“Then you’re probably paranoid from that! And the food situation… We will  _ definitely  _ fix that.” Klaus reached out, ready to poke the Horror, before stopping. “Bruised ribs. I guess I can play with the sweetheart later. But tell her how much I miss her.”

“Her?”

“Is it not a her? Maybe a he? Ze?” 

“It,” he mumbled. He squinted at Klaus, trying to organize his thoughts. This sensation only appeared when he woke up to Klaus patting his cheeks. Yet, it seeped into his bones. Whatever wrong had been wrong all day. He just hadn’t noticed it until this moment. “Klaus, something—”

“You’re beginning to sound like a broken record!” his brother giggled, louder than anything he could attempt to say, before leaning forward and butting their heads together. The collision left Ben seeing stars, and he blinked furiously to try and get rid of it. Then, he slumped back against the pillows, exhausted. 

Klaus finished his nails with a satisfied smile. “There we go! You will be the  _ prettiest  _ patient for Mom!”

“Am I going back to Mom?” The fear mingled with the wrongness. He couldn’t go back to their mom. Something… He needed to be here. With Klaus. Before he could think better of it, he grabbed Klaus’s wrist and took a deep breath, ignoring the way it squeaked out. “I don’t wanna, Klaus. Don’t… Don’t make me.”

“C’mon. Don’t you want more painkillers—”

_ Something was wrong.  _

“You’re high.” Ben jerked back from him. “That’s what’s wrong.”

Klaus froze. Then, he did jazz hands. “Yeah, yeah, something like that! I’m kinda shocked it took you that long to figure it out. You’re always riding my ass about this kind of shit! So what if I like being high?”

“You promised…” He hated how small his voice sounded. His bottom lip wobbled, and he resisted the urge to cry  _ again.  _

He shook his head. His hair bounced into his face, but Klaus made no attempt to bat it away. “I didn’t! You promised for me! C’mon, Benji, these past few days have been  _ so stressful.  _ Between you and Five and all the fighting… How did you expect me to be able to stay sober—wait, where are you going?”

Ben pushed to his feet, ignoring the way gravity dipped around him. He threw one hand back, the one wrapped from the shackles still, to steady himself. Then, he stumbled forward a few steps towards the door. 

Klaus caught his arm. “Ben, where are you going?”

“I’m not… You promised.” And he sounded like a little kid, but… One hand curled up to find the key.

It found nothing. 

He glanced over at Klaus, betrayed, and his brother stumbled back with his hands up in mock surrender. “I… Look. If Dad would’ve caught you with the key around your neck, he would’ve killed you! And they were going to have to remove it to wrap your ribs, so I took it for you! I promise!”

“I… Did you…” He grasped for the words before finally swallowing. “Give it back then.”

His eyes went wide.

Ben took it as his answer and kept pushing towards the door. Klaus hurried after him, but he gave up on trying to stop him. When he managed to nudge it open, he tripped. 

Someone caught him. 

He glanced up and smiled. “Hi, Allison.”

“Hi, Ben…”

“Allison!” Klaus exploded around them, trying to get in between them. Allison took a step back, her brow furrowing. He offered her a toothy smile as if he didn’t notice. “Have you thought about what we talked about?”

“Klaus, I’m not…” Allison pushed Ben away, gently, before reaching up and scrubbing a hand down her face. He studied her for a few seconds. It took longer than he would’ve liked to see how puffy her eyes were; she must’ve been crying all day. “You know I’m not comfortable doing that. I didn’t want to for Five.”

“But you  _ did.”  _ He pouted, bouncing on his heels. “Oh, please, please,  _ please.  _ Do you know how much easier it’d make my life?”

“Klaus, I’m not doing it.” She started to walk down the hallway.

Ben tried to follow, but Klaus pushed in front. “Did you know Ben’s mad at me?”

“What?”

“What?” Ben echoed quietly. He couldn’t quite keep up with their pace, and they kept getting faster and faster. He missed… He cut that thought off before it could finish. Being a ghost meant no physical pain. But being a ghost meant always being in pain. He would take this compromise any day.

Klaus nodded. “He’s mad I’m really fucking high right now.”

“I’m kinda mad about that too,” she responded stiffly. “Does now really feel like the right time to get high?”

“Sure it is! If everyone is going to be at each other’s throats, I might as well!” His gaze slid over to Ben for a second before focusing on only Allison. He grabbed at her hands, and she scowled at him. “I wouldn’t  _ have  _ to get high if you just did me that little favor, though. It wouldn’t even be that hard for you!”

“Klaus, I’m  _ not  _ Rumoring your powers away!” She shoved him off and took off running. 

He knew where she was heading.

As he finally caught up to Klaus, who stood in the middle of the hallway with his jaw dropped, he nudged him. “That’s not fair to Allison.”

“Your powers are killing you,” Klaus said simply. “Mine are going to kill me too. And there’s no amount of control that’ll make it easier. So, why not? Why not get stoned? Maybe if I get lucky, I’ll OD in an alley… It’s not like any of you would come looking—”

Ben crushed him in a hug. He ignored the throbbing in his ribs. He ignored the tightness in his chest. Instead, he buried his face in his shoulder. “Don’t… Don’t say that.”

“Ben—” Klaus choked on a sob before dissolving into hysterical laughter. “I can’t deal with the ghosts. They never leave me alone. Allison has a way to make them leave me alone. What’s so bad about being ordinary?”

Ben didn’t respond. He just cried harder.

-

_ (“What will we tell the children?” _

_ “Nothing they didn’t already know. They failed him.”) _

-

“Allison?” Ben crept into the greenhouse. The fairy lights illuminated the small space; Reginald hadn’t torn it down yet. He never knew about this place in life. If he had, he would’ve read his books here. At some point, the same grim wallpaper started to turn into a prison. He always felt, at some point, his whole life would be confined to this mansion.

And, in a way, it was.

The sobbing spluttered to a stop. He could barely make her out. He eased down to the floor outside the little alcove they made. She wouldn’t want him inside, but he wouldn’t be able to keep standing up. By the end of his conversation with Klaus, he almost passed out on his brother. Then, he staggered up the steps to find Allison anyway.

She turned to him, eyes blazing. “Go away, Ben.”

“I don’t blame you for the Rumor. It’s a lot harder to stand up to Dad than the others think.” A smile quirked on his face. “And you’re just trying to keep the family together.”

“Ben. Go away.” She continued to glare at him. “I’m warning you.”

He didn’t move, still trying to catch his breath. He’d move in a second… He couldn’t get up right now. If he did, he might knock himself out on the stairs. He might wind up with a broken jaw, and Klaus made it very obvious it was one of the worst experiences of his life.

Allison snapped. 

_ “I heard a rumor…” _

Wait, wait, no. Ben’s head shot up, and he scrambled from where he sat to try and stand up. He needed to leave on his own terms. If she Rumored him into going away, he wouldn’t know where he’d end up.

_ “...you got out.” _

Ben moved.

His ribs burned.

He couldn’t breathe.

He couldn’t see.

He couldn’t think.

Ben got out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Allison's powers are just *chef kiss* I don't feel like we've gotten a good enough chance to play with them in canon (for good reason! Allison realizes she messed up by using them so much!). Younger Allison hasn't learnt the same restraint though, so... things tend to end badly :)
> 
> also if it seems like ben's pain level was a little inconsistent... there's a reason ben doesn't know yet


	8. secret and strange angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone clamped a hand on his shoulder, startling him out of his dreamless sleep. Ben blinked up at him, trying to see through the rain. “Hi, kiddo. Why don’t we get you into some warm clothes and out of the rain?”
> 
> “I know you,” he mumbled.
> 
> His memories came crashing back into him. He swatted at the hand and slid backwards, his spine hitting the back of the bench hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter? was a ton of fun to write? and also didn't go with my original plan at all? it's fine, everything's fine haha
> 
> sorry for the shorter chapter! any longer and i think it would've felt like it was dragging on haha
> 
> (also: today on the Horror and Ben having the most Problematic Relationship--)

_ Left foot. _

Sometimes, Ben remembered. Loneliness sank into his blurring vision. He’d look around as if one of his siblings might appear out of nowhere (or, at least, Klaus). And sometimes, he forgot. He lost himself to the rhythm of walking. 

_ Right foot. _

He lost feeling in his legs a long time ago. He might’ve reopened cuts on his feet from that first day back. Something squished beneath him every time he moved. He stumbled along with one hand braced on the brick walls. He fell once, twice, thrice. It tore up his knees and elbows, but he couldn’t stop.

_ Left foot. _

Something echoed in the back of his mind, louder than any of the fuzzy fragments he had. It insisted he got out of the mansion. It insisted he got out of their lives. It insisted he got out of everything.

_ Right foot.  _

He didn’t come across anyone. Nobody else staggered in the back alleyways, illuminated by nothing but the clouds shrouding the moon, on a random weekday. Or, at least, he thought it was a weekday. He didn’t know anymore. He could’ve left the house an hour ago, or he could’ve left the house a year ago. 

_ Left foot.  _

All the responsible adults disappeared. Those who remained dodged him. He heard them mutter curses at him. They said he must be high on something or insane or something in between. Some jeered and knocked into him, forcing him to the ground. He got knocked down once, twice, thrice. 

_ Right foot. _

But, luckily, he didn’t see many people.

_ Left foot. _

He wondered what these people saw. He wore the pajamas of the Umbrella Academy—the white uniform with the too bright buttons. His shirt landed awkwardly from all the clunky bandages. One of his sleeves was rolled up to his elbow, displaying the wrapping on his wrist. He stumbled along, unable to really support his weight anymore

_ Right foot. _

At some point, he stepped on something next to a dumpster. He fell back with a mumbled curse, scooting away and clutching at it. He plucked glass out as it oozed and gushed blood. Now, he couldn’t put any real weight on his left foot.

_ Left foot. _

But he couldn’t stop trying.

_ Right foot. _

He spent years following his brother around, so he frequented paths Klaus used to take. This was where his favorite dealer would take up shop; he imagined she was still in high school now. This was where he broke up with his long-term boyfriend. This was where his brother got mugged, only for the thief to realize he didn’t have anything to take. This was where Klaus drew a mural of dicks. This was where Diego found him after he overdosed for the third time.

_ Left foot. _

This was where Ben discovered Klaus couldn’t die.

_ Right foot.  _

Ben didn’t want to think about that, so he wouldn’t.

_ Left foot. _

If he closed his eyes, he knew he could follow the paths without running into many obstacles. And if he kept his eyes shut, the world stopped swaying and bobbing. And if Ben pretended he followed Klaus around, he could ignore the burning rattling through the rest of his body. As a ghost, his blood couldn’t revolt against him. He couldn’t cough up blood every few steps. He couldn’t be scared of dying again.

_ Right foot. _

He missed Klaus.

_ Left foot. _

The Horror pushed against him, trying to convince him to slow down. Its worry washed over him every few seconds. Then, the pounding of his heart in his ears drowned it back out. Besides, he couldn’t distinguish the Horror from the pulsing of his ribs and the stomachache stabbing into him. All of the cuts, bruises, aches pierced at him with every step, and he almost puked at some point, but he didn’t have anything to bring up.

_ Right foot. _

It had started raining though.

_ Left foot. _

He missed the rain. It slipped beneath his pajamas, staining the skin underneath. It plastered his hair to his face. It took some of the burns away from his skin, consuming him with the cold of the outside world.

_ Right foot. _

He loved it.

_ Left foot. _

Another day, he’d dance in the puddles. He’d twirl Vanya around, getting the droplets to bounce off of her skirt. He’d laugh with Klaus until neither of them could breathe. They’d race through the streets as if nothing could slow them down. And the whole time, the rain would make the world shine silver. 

_ Right foot. _

Instead, Ben stumbled to a bench with some politician’s face on it. He collapsed before he could reach it, but he crawled the rest of the way. He used to lecture Klaus about sleeping on the ground. It didn’t matter his brother’s knees trembled with every step. It didn’t matter the exhaustion sunk bone-deep. He needed to sleep on a  _ surface,  _ and if that applied to Klaus, it’d apply to Ben.

He sprawled out as much as he could, still cradling his left foot to the rest of his body. It hadn’t stopped bleeding. He needed to wrap it in some way before he bled out, but he was so  _ tired— _

The Horror pressed against him, and Ben laughed. “Do you wanna do it? Be my guest…”

He ignored the ache as he opened the portal again. As the tentacles crept, soft and hesitant, Ben let his head fall back against the bench. They emerged one by one. Then, they started moving around him, seeking things out he couldn’t see, stretching farther than he’d be willing to. It uncurled and snuck into one of the nearby windows. When it reemerged, it carried a woman’s blouse.

It tore it apart with the ease of ripping papers. Then, a tentacle started pawing at his foot, tugging out the rest of the glass shards. Ben knew he should be worried he couldn’t feel it. But he also didn’t want to feel it. So, he just watched with half-lidded eyes as it sent the little shards flying away from him.

Then, with clumsy accuracy, it wrapped up his foot.

“Didn’t know you could do that,” he whispered.

One tentacle arched back to him, nestling a tentacle in his hair. He laughed at the familiarity, wheezing and stuttering. It reminded him of Klaus. He never would have thought the same Horror which threatened to kill him would be the one which comforted him when he was all alone. 

Ben wanted to say something else, something more meaningful, but his eyes rolled back, and he fell into darkness.

-

Someone clamped a hand on his shoulder, startling him out of his dreamless sleep. Ben blinked up at him, trying to see through the rain. “Hi, kiddo. Why don’t we get you into some warm clothes and out of the rain?”

“I know you,” he mumbled.

The man’s face twisted. “When I was younger—”

His memories came crashing back into him. He swatted at the hand and slid backwards, his spine hitting the back of the bench hard. At some point, the Horror folded back into him. Now, as he pressed an arm around his stomach, he begged for the Horror to get ready to attack since Ben couldn’t run.

The man held up both hands in surrender. “I know we haven’t gotten off to the best start, but we need to talk about the Commission.”

“Then talk now.” He coughed as he pressed too tight against the Horror, and the blood splattered down the front of his pajamas. On the bright side, between the grime of the alleyway and the rain, it didn’t look white anymore. “I’m not going with you.”

“No offense, kid, but you look like you’re about to die. If I’m going to warn you, I’d prefer you actually be able to act on it. C’mon.” He kept approaching him anyway.

Ben growled, trying to channel his best Five impression. “I’ll unleash the Horror on you.”

“I don’t doubt that. I’ve been told what you did to the Swede.” The man paused, considering. “I’m sure he deserved it. Those three tend to come on a little strong. But I don’t intend to hurt you. You’ve seen me in action, haven’t you? If I wanted to hurt you, I would have already done that.”

“You hurt my brother.”

“Technically, I haven’t yet.” He offered a crooked smile, and when Ben didn’t laugh, he sighed. “It’s part of the job, kid. Are you going to tell me you haven’t killed anyone?”

Ben flinched. “That’s different—”

“It is. I’ll give you that. But I quit that job, and I got clean.” A certain air of sadness settled around him, a wisdom he lacked the last time he saw him. “But I still owe the Old-Timer a few favors, and I haven’t been able to find a way to help him. I know, though, he wanted his family to be safe more than anything. So, if I can get that for him, that’ll suffice as an apology.”

Ben watched him warily.

“Let’s start over. Hi. My name is Hazel.” Reaching out, he waited for Ben to take his hand. They both knew he wouldn’t be getting up without some help.

He weighed his options. The last time he saw Hazel, he was with that other woman… Cha-Cha? The two of them tortured Klaus until he sobbed, until he fell straight back into the mausoleum. He drove Klaus to the brink of insanity, and if he remembered, he was sure he’d still be traumatized from it. Nobody deserved to be treated so inhumanely. Nobody deserved to scream through a gag, trying to be heard through the closet door, drowning in their own blood and sweat and tears.

But Ben doubted any of his siblings would be able to come for him. Reginald probably had them under lock and key, and he’d send out his own patrols to come find him. He never intended to let any of them go; Reginald made that abundantly clear. 

He didn’t know if he’d be willing to go back with Grace, with Pogo. He didn’t know what awaited him. 

He might not be able to survive long enough to decide that. 

And Hazel looked older now. Both of them changed since the last time they met. Ben spent several days in the past, and Hazel lived out a lifetime. His beard and hair had gray shooting through it, and his eyes held a different sort of kindness now. He worked for the same people Five did. Five probably tortured people too; he promised himself he’d never judge Five for the choices he made. 

Maybe Hazel hadn’t had a choice.

Ben cleared his throat, ignoring the tickle in his throat. “You owe Klaus an apology too.”

“I know.”

“All of my siblings.” Ben wasn’t joking. “You attacked our house.”

“Okay. Deal. You have my word.” Hazel grinned as Ben shifted forward and took his hand. As he hauled him to his feet, Hazel let Ben drape his arm around his shoulder. He’d hop until they reached their final destination; he couldn’t walk on his foot now. It swelled up beneath the wrapping. Ben swayed, and his vision almost went black, but Hazel’s grip never loosened.

It took him longer to adjust to standing again. “Where are we going?”

“Right now? My car. You need to put on less… Noticeable clothes. Nobody will let you anywhere looking like that. And we need to go get a bite to eat.”

“Can’t we just go through a drive-through?”

“No.” Hazel laughed quietly. “I have an old friend to see.”

-

Ben cradled his water bottle as Hazel inspected his foot. He never expected him to drive a minivan, but he collapsed the backseats to make room to tend to Ben’s wounds. He already wiggled out of his wet clothes, trading them for mostly dry clothes. It wasn’t the combination of clothing he used to wear everywhere; it couldn’t replace his jeans, plain shirt, black hoodie, and a leather jacket. Technically, though, he didn’t think he ever wore that particular combination in life. It was just what he  _ wanted  _ to wear.

He peeked at his reflection again.

He didn’t look like…  _ Himself.  _ Ben still wasn’t used to seeing such a young face glancing back at him. And he didn’t expect to see someone so injured and beaten down. A sickly pallor refused to leave his skin, and he sweated beneath the still gleaming raindrops. Deep bags hung beneath his eyes like bruises. 

But he looked more like himself than he ever could at the academy. Hazel gave him a plain t-shirt and a black sweatshirt. In the middle, a bird sat, stark white, with a quote in cursive beside it.  _ ‘Hope is a thing with feathers.’  _ On the back, some birdwatching group was listed with various names… Including Hazel’s. He wore gray sweatpants, rolled up at the bottom to keep him from tripping. 

Hazel also replaced the binding around his ribs and his wrist. He ran alcohol over every wound, and Ben passed out, but when he came back to, he got a water bottle and painkillers.

“Are you going to tell me about the Commission yet?” he murmured. 

Hazel glanced up at him as he fished out a needle. A smile started as he thought of the way Diego would flinch away from it; he’d pass out on the spot. The older they got, the more control he got over his fear of needles. It still didn’t mean he managed to quell it. Once, Reginald tried to test it—

The smile dropped off his face in that same instance.

“Sure. Maybe it’ll keep your mind off this.” He hummed as he fished out more bandages. “If we had a chance, I’d bring you by an infirmary to get an actual cast on your foot. The good news is, at least, I have crutches around for you. Kid, how were you even walking?”

“I don’t know,” he said truthfully. 

Hazel rubbed more alcohol all over the sole of his foot. As Ben flinched back from that, he started to weave the needle through the broken skin. Ben glanced away as he started to talk. “How much do you know about the Commission?”

“I, ah, I know you and Five worked there.” He clenched his fists and gritted his jaw as it tingled through his veins. “And you guys managed to time travel there.”

“Something like that. Our job was to deal with anomalies in the timeline. There were different branches… Both your brother and I were field agents. We got the hits, and we executed them. There wasn’t room for any questioning, not unless you wanted to get on the chopping block.”

“Was there a hit out on Klaus then?” 

“No. There was a hit on Five. He knew too much.” Hazel laughed softly. “I don’t know how they thought we’d be able to take the old man. He’s a legend in his field. Cha-Cha and I… We were good, but we were never that good.”

“That’s…” Ben made a face. “Good to know.”

“Hey.” He patted his knee. “He wasn’t good because he enjoyed the killing. By the end of it, I suspect he was as tired as I was. But there was nothing that could stand between him and his family. He wanted to get back to you.”

_ ‘I wasn’t there to get back to.’  _ Ben swallowed down the words before he could slip up. Just because they were having a moment didn’t mean he should spill his guts. Instead, he relished in Five’s love of his family. No matter what he said, he loved all of them. He was lying when they spoke before. Or speaking out of rage… After all, he was thirteen years old, and Ben was…

Wow, no wonder Five got so upset when they referred to him as a child.

“That’s beside the point. We don’t get to make the assignments… Those go up the totem pole. Right above the field agents are the handlers—including  _ the  _ Handler.” He grinned up at Ben when he shuddered. “I see you’ve met her. She’s a little insane. And I mean that in the worst way.”

“She’s…” He thought of the knife pressing against his throat and the quote thrown at him from her daughter. “She doesn’t seem to have the same morals as you and Five.”

“Oh, she doesn’t. And  _ that  _ has gotten her into hot water with the board of directors. One of the first rules at the Commission is you can’t put hits on someone unless they’re a proven threat.” He nodded at Ben. “Do you see where this is going?”

“There’s a hit on me?”

“Nope.” Hazel popped the P as he pulled the needle through for the last time. Reaching out to snag the bandages, he began to wrap it up. “The algorithm determined you dying would have more adverse effects on the timeline. If you died this early, it’s very likely your siblings would go off the rails in a very unpredictable way. And with Five, since he has no memory of the future, killing him would be the same as killing an innocent.”

Ben leant back, considering. The Commission couldn’t have an actual hit out on any Hargreeves then. Otherwise, he would’ve remembered the time police knocking down their doors. That meant the Handler, the Swedes, Lila… All of them decided to go off-book with the sole purpose of attacking Ben.

“I see your brain working, but I’ll give you the answer. The Handler put an illegal hit on you. She was in the middle of filing one against Five when the board of directors caught her. Now, the Handler was already making waves. She took, uh, a leave of absence. When she returned, she had been replaced and demoted.”

“You can take leaves of absence from time assassination?”

“You can when you get shot in the head.”

“Oh.”

“It’s messy, kid. And it’s about to get messier. She told them she’s  _ sure  _ you’re going to do something; she can predict it better than the algorithm after working with Five for so long. And they cut her a deal, purely because she has a number of loyal people who’d go to war for her.” Hazel shifted back as he finished patching up Ben’s foot. “If you step out of line, they’ll forgive her. So, she’s trying to  _ force  _ you out of line.”

“That seems like cheating,” he noted. 

Hazel snorted. “Tell me about it. The problem is that you haven’t stepped out of line, though. And they’re starting to get desperate.”

Ben froze.

“Desperate enough to attack the house?”

“I’m not privy to all the details, but…” He offered a curt nod before getting up. “Well, on that note, I think we need a doughnut. Just to cheer up.”

“Hazel—”

“There’s nothing we can do about it right now, and your stomach has been growling this whole time. We need you in top shape if you’re going to help me defend your family.”

-

Ben almost fell flat on his face as he eased out of the minivan. Hazel caught him with ease, but he couldn’t stop gawking at the building. “We… We… We’re going to  _ Griddy’s?” _

“I told you. I have an old friend to visit.” He started to move inside, but Ben couldn’t follow him. Something started to thrum inside of him, desperate and scared and throwing itself against his heart, again and again and again.

He couldn’t count the number of times they snuck out here; every once and awhile, someone would be more daring than usual. Usually, it was Five or Klaus. They’d find the best way out of the house—some rusty window or some door which didn’t close properly in the winter—and they’d sneak out in the dead of night. Why Griddy’s remained open until the early hours of morning would always be beyond Ben.

And then, they’d sit at these booths, laughing like little kids. They’d make up stories for the waitresses who passed by. Sometimes, they were all siblings. Sometimes, they were a lacrosse team from the local school. Sometimes, they were actors coming off their newest play. But they could pretend they were something more than what Reginald made them. They could be  _ better  _ than what Reginald made them.

He didn’t even realize how much he missed coming here.

_ (Deep down, Ben knew that was a lie. He used to beg Klaus to go to Griddy’s for breakfast. They served actual meals; instead of cocaine, he could start off the morning with fresh eggs! Klaus always said no, though, and he’d get this nauseous look on his face. Eventually, Ben stopped pushing. _

_ One time, Ben went alone. He sat at one of the booths, knowing nobody could see him. And he sat there, watching groups of people come in, and he saw his siblings in everyone. A haggard writer looked like Vanya. A stressed pre-med student looked like Luther. A group of teenage girls looked like Allison.  _

_ Nobody ever looked like him. _

_ And nobody ever looked like his whole family.) _

“What are you waiting for?” Hazel doubled back, placing a comforting hand on his back to guide him forward.

Ben shook his head, mouth suddenly dry. How could he explain it? How could he express the finality of this moment? This was the last key to his past… This was the last key to his life alive. Once he walked in, it would be like acknowledging everything that happened. Because, just like last time, he stepped in alone.

Or maybe he was just sentimental from all the blood loss. “Nothing… Let’s go.”

“Let’s go,” he echoed. With Hazel keeping in step, he hobbled the rest of the way inside. The bell jingled overhead, and the smell of fresh pastries swept over him. Ben wobbled for a moment before pushing onward. He knew where he wanted to sit—

Hazel caught his arm. “Mind if we sit at the counter instead? I have a waitress I need to check up on.”

“I…” He glanced over. The woman behind the counter observed both of them with something close to sympathy in her eyes. Then again, he supposed he shouldn’t be shocked. He looked pathetic. Ben gave the old, familiar booth one last look before nodding. “Yeah, of course.”

“Thanks.” Hazel pulled out the stool and waited for Ben to hop up. The second he did, he repositioned the crutches and claimed the seat next to him. 

The waitress hurried over. She wore a bright pink and white uniform, blonde hair bundled beneath her cap. Stitched over her heart was her name:  _ Agnes.  _ It felt like it should’ve meant something to him.

He glanced over at Hazel. His whole demeanor softened as he took her in; it meant something to him.

“Why, hello there! What can I help you with?” She kept glancing at Ben as if scared he’d fracture into pieces. 

Hazel cleared his throat, but his voice held so much affection it almost made Ben blush. “Two glazed doughnuts, please? And a cup of water for the kid.”

“Coming right up…” She hesitated. “Are you the kid who came in the other month with his basketball team?”

Hazel sent him a quizzical look as Ben laughed. He nodded. “Yeah… Uh, I rolled my ankle during the last game.”

“Oh!” Her whole face lit up. “I was wondering what happened there, but I thought it’d be rude to ask. I’d hate to impose.”

“It’s no problem,” Hazel said.

She smiled. “How about I get you those two doughnuts on the house? No need to pay for it… You’ve obviously had a difficult week.”

“That sounds wonderful.” Hazel shot Ben a look when he stared at her for too long. He ducked his head, shrugging slightly. He didn’t… All of her attention was focused on it. He got too used to people staring through him. To see someone studying him, trying to figure him out like some kind of puzzle, made him uncomfortable beyond words.

The second Agnes hurried off, Hazel leant in. “That was the old friend I wanted to see…”

“Did you meet her in the future?” Ben couldn’t help the smile. He spent so much time reading cheesy romances, but one unfolded right in front of him. 

Hazel smiled too, so obviously a man in love. “Yup. She was the one who showed me there’s more to life than just carrying out orders. What’s the point of seeing the world, all different times and places, when you can’t see what’s right in front of you?”

“That’s…” Ben beamed and nodded, unsure how to add to that.

Pushing onwards, Hazel didn’t tear his eyes from her. “Thank you for coming with me. If I went alone, I’m afraid I’d do something stupid. Something about being around her just makes me want to be with her. But we had a good many years together before she died.”

“From the Commission?” He tried to mask his horror.

He shook his head. “Cancer. Took her quick.”

“Oh…” Couldn’t he tell her right now to get it checked out? Couldn’t they cut out the cancer before it began? But when he went to say that, he noticed Hazel wiping at his eyes as subtly as he dared. He… Ben, the second he arrived back in the past, ran through every scenario which would give his siblings happiness. To think Hazel didn’t do the exact same thing would be stupid. 

Sometimes, people died. And they couldn’t stop time… Ben’s skin prickled at the thought, but he tried to push it away. At least… At least, Hazel would always be able to find a point in time to visit her. 

Agnes arrived back with the doughnuts, absolutely beaming now. “Well, there you go! They’re fresh; I just finished them before you came in.”

“Thank you,” Hazel said with the same weight as  _ ‘I love you.’ _

Agnes blushed. “I’m just doing my job.”

“But you do it with such genuine love for the craft…” Hazel hesitated, debating what to say next. Finally, he sighed, letting the words die. “May I have a coffee too?”

“Oh! Of course!” And she hurried off again, and he watched her go. Ben’s heart ached just watching the pair of them. The woman didn’t even know her future lover sat so close. She didn’t even know her true love was a doughnut away.

Hazel sighed. “Why haven’t you gone home, kid?”

“I can’t.” Ben still watched Agnes, not thinking about his words. How did someone like her end up with a time travelling assassin? She seemed like someone who’d be scandalized by someone swearing in the doughnut shop. And she obviously had roots here… Did she have a family too? Did her love just overcome that much?

“You can always go back to your family.” He lowered his voice. “Trust me, if I know the Old-Timer… Well, I guess I don’t know this version of him, but the point still stands. If I know him, he’d do anything to have you back.”

“I can’t.” And it was that simple.

“What did you do that was so wrong? The Commission scare you out of your support system? You’re going to need them in the coming days.”

Ben shook his head. “I just can’t.”

“What do you mean…  _ Oh.”  _ Hazel snapped his fingers, realization lighting up his eyes. “Your sister Rumored you.”

“No, she didn’t. She’s not allowed to Rumor us—”

“Then, go home.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because I can’t—” Oh. Maybe she did Rumor him. The thought pulled at him, though, eating away at his consciousness. Ben reached up and rubbed at his eyes. He knew people never remembered Allison Rumored them until after it faded, but… No, she couldn’t have Rumored him. He just couldn’t go home. There was nothing strange about that.

Hazel reached over and patted him on the shoulder. “It’s alright, kid. Don’t give yourself an aneurysm.”

“She  _ wouldn’t.” _

“Okay.”

“I just… I can’t.”

“Okay—”

Then, the two Swedes stepped into Griddy’s.

-

Ben moved without thinking. None of the men appeared to have guns this time around, but he still wanted to ward off any bullets. Hazel followed him, shoving him down to the ground. Some of the patrons glanced at them, confused, but their loud chatter kept the Swedes from noticing (hopefully).

Hazel adjusted, placing his back to the crowd, before pulling two guns out of his jacket. Ben gawked at him, and he offered a bitter, cocky smile. “What can I say? I know how the Commission works. I’ll go distract them—”

“They’re here for me,” Ben hissed, and he knew it to be a fact as he spoke. The Swedes wanted revenge on him for killing their brother, and they wouldn’t be distracted by Hazel. And… And Hazel hadn’t gotten younger. He had probably lost some of his precision in his age, and he wouldn’t—he  _ couldn’t— _ be the reason another man died. “I’m the better distraction. You get everyone out… Nobody needs to die today.”

Hazel shook his head. “I admire the heroism—”

“You need to get Agnes out,” he murmured, winning the argument. He knew it was a low blow; Hazel would do anything for the love of his life. Something hardened on his face, and Ben saw the man who tortured his brother again. Ben readied the Horror as he nodded, slowly. “On three then.”

_ No killing,  _ he thought to the Horror, louder than his pounding, aching heartbeat.  _ Nobody dies. _

The Horror rumbled its disagreement, but Hazel reached zero before they could discuss it. Ben steadied himself before darting out into the open. Both men snapped their heads towards him as he offered his best smile. “Hi. Can we just talk—”

Faster than he could blink, the tallest Swede brought out a pistol and shot in Ben’s direction.

He hit the ground and rolled, ignoring the pain shooting out from his foot, his torso. As he shoved up his elbows, he watched the Swede stomp closer. He was conserving bullets, though. Otherwise, he’d just be firing blindly like they did back in the warehouse… That  _ had  _ to be a good thing, right?

Ben stumbled upwards, hands up in surrender. “Please?”

They shot at him again. 

He dodged, barely, hopping on one foot and twisting sharply. The bullet whistled in his ear, and he mumbled a curse as he let the Horror burst out.

People began shrieking, louder than before, at the sight of the beast. The five tentacles arched towards the ceiling, glowing, as they dove down towards the men. Both weaved and shot at Ben; he would always be the weak spot here. He jerked an arm in front of him, and a tentacle followed the movement.

The Horror growled in his mind, angry as the bullet struck it, but its skin was much harder than Ben’s. It’d bruise, and it’d ache, but it wouldn’t kill. It swept out, breaking free of his control for a second, and lunged straight at one of the men’s throat.

Ben yelped and yanked back on it, hard enough he fell back down. 

It stopped inches from the Swede, and the man maneuvered, rolling over the tentacle. Then, he yanked out a knife and stabbed into the Horror. He pulled all of the tentacles back while the Horror shrieked at him, louder than anything he could think. 

Wait… Where’d the other Swede go?

Ben flipped around just in time to see him angling his gun at his head. He limped forward and lashed out a hand, and a tentacle obliged again. They knocked the gun sky high, and Ben flipped over. One of the tentacles propelled him on his back, and he caught it right before the Swede could.

It didn’t stop the man from kicking him in the head, and the force made him lose his grip.

The Horror knocked him back, but he forced it to pull its punch at the last second. Instead, he skittered across the floor, slamming into one of the booths with someone still in it. The woman, covering her daughter’s eyes, screamed.

_ (And the Horror relished in it—) _

Another knife came flying at him, but he spent enough time acting as target practice for Diego. He shimmied a few steps forward, and the knife landed inches away from his thigh. Ben twisted to grab it again, but another knife came flying at his face.

The Horror batted it out of the air, and it hit one of the lights. It shattered over their heads with a bright  _ pop. _

With the distraction, Ben tried to get back on his feet and rush over to Hazel. He got two steps before his bad foot gave out, and he fell to the ground again. He managed to shift at the last moment to keep from crushing the tentacles beneath him. 

One of the Swedes grabbed his foot and dragged him backwards. Ben wheezed, spluttering, and let a Horror arch over his head and grab the Swede by his middle. As he—the Horror—gripped him, he guided it to the booth, letting him slam him down into it. Not enough to kill. Hopefully enough to knock out.

The other Swede approached, but a loud gunshot cut him off. He howled, grabbing his now bleeding shoulder, as Hazel appeared behind him and cut off his misery by slamming the butt of the gun into his head. 

Ben wheezed again, and Hazel pointed at the Horror. “Think you can get that back under control? Because we need to go.”

“Gimme… Gimme one sec.” Ben closed his eyes and clenched his fists, and he sought out the Horror in his mind. And it thrashed  _ (hungryhungryhungry)  _ as he wrapped his control around it. Inch by inch, he forced it back inside him, and the whole time it fought. It didn’t want… It was so close to getting a good meal, but Ben couldn’t allow that. 

He stopped breathing.

Hazel made a noise. “Kid, are you okay? You’re looking—”

The Horror fell back inside him, and Ben rolled over and vomited up blood.

Hazel stared down at him in disbelief before shaking his head. He grabbed his arm, forcing him to his feet. “C’mon, we gotta go. We can’t do this… We can go patch you up at a motel, and you can have an actual night’s worth of sleep.”

“That… That sounds good to me,” Ben murmured, head lolling against Hazel. “Can you… Uh… Go buy those mice from the pet store? That they feed to snakes?”

“What— _ Oh.”  _ Hazel stared at him as he dragged him out of Griddy’s, glancing around as if the police could appear at any second. “Does that help?”

“Yes.”  _ No. Not as much.  _

He nodded. “Then consider it done. Live or dead?”

“Live… It likes, uh, fresh blood.” It made him feel gross just to say it aloud, but Hazel nodded as if it made sense, and Ben let it drop. 

He realized, as Hazel threw him in the front seat, he didn’t have blood on him… Besides from the cut on his forehead. He didn’t get any blood from the Swedes on him. He reached up, dabbing at it and staring at his fingers. “I… I did it.”

“Did what, kid?” Hazel didn’t look away from the road, sending them darting down, faster than what could be advised.

He grinned. He felt the blood between his teeth. “That… That was a good fight.”

And the Horror rolled, not quite content but not quite angry.

-

“Will my siblings ever remember?” Ben murmured, collapsed on the motel bed and buried beneath the blankets. The Horror ate in the bathtub; the shower water still ran to try and clear away all the blood. Ben still felt the mice’s blood beneath his nails, under his skin, but he knew better than to try and clean it off. At least… Not right now.

Hazel sat at the desk, sorting photographs and postcards. The one time Ben got up to try and sneak a peek, he saw Agnes’ signature and settled back down. If he wanted to talk about his former lover, he would. Right now, though, he thought the other man tried to ground himself in that love. He came dangerously close to being a time assassin again; Ben knew how that particular brand of whiplash felt.

When he didn’t respond, he cleared his throat, ignoring the way it felt like it brought chunks up with it. “Hazel, why am I the only one who remembers?”

“That’s complicated,” he said slowly. He set one of the photographs down, running his finger over the edge. “Five’s brand of time travel is different than ours. We teleport our bodies; Five tends to teleport his consciousness and pray his body comes along for the ride.”

“I don’t… Know what that means.”

“I don’t either. But if I’m right… You’ll all remember, eventually.” He glanced at Ben. “You won’t like this next part, though.”

“What? Them remembering would be a good thing…” Sure, it’d bring up trauma he wished they didn’t get, but… Maybe they shouldn’t remember. Maybe it’d only help Ben. But Ben felt so, so different than all of his siblings— _ again.  _ He didn’t want to bear the weight of this; he didn’t want to be the one the Commission hunted down. “Oh.”

“If they remember, there’s a small chance they’ll go insane,” Hazel said solemnly. “They’ll have two different timelines in their heads. One where Five jumped in the coming days, and one where you came back and changed things for the better.”

“Wait.” Ben sat straight up, and he only wheezed a little. “Are you telling me I… I ruined things for my siblings? That I… I… I damaged them in some way?”

“There’s no guarantees they’ll remember, kid.” He got to his feet and crossed the room, placing a hand on Ben’s shoulder.

He shifted away and buried his face in his hands. “I’m supposed to make things  _ better.” _

“Have they shown any signs of remembering yet?”

And it was meant to be comforting but—

_ “I love Dad. But do you ever feel like these missions are… Fake, somehow? I trust Dad. But I don’t… I don’t trust Pogo. Or Grace, not really.” _

_ “I would hate to be powerless. We have the ability to help people, and no matter what happens, nobody else can do what we do. So we have the responsibility too… Then nobody will ever leave you.” _

_ “Can’t you Rumor him—” _

_ “No… Can I… Can I help you up? C’mon, Ben.” _

_ “Dave will make this face. ‘Klaus, you don’t need that. Klaus, you’re better without that. Klaus, it’ll hurt you more in the long run.’ Which, like, isn’t anything I haven’t heard before, but it makes me feel bad enough I don’t take the pills? I don’t get it. I feel like I’m missing something.” _

_ “Get off me, you big ape!” _

_ “Allison Rumored my powers away in the first place, didn’t she? So I wouldn’t know I have them? It’s the only thing that makes sense. She gets… She gets everything.” _

Ben slapped a hand over his mouth, trying to stop the choking, suffocating sobs from getting out. 

He ruined his family.

_ Again. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the fight scene is sponsored by "Everybody Talks" - Neon Trees  
> That's what was playing in my head when I wrote that scene haha
> 
> ALSO when I said I intended to bring back all of my favorite characters, I really did. Hazel? is amazing? and I think everyone should understand that (though he has done some very QUESTIONABLE things and owes a lot of different people an apology, but the same can be said of five sooo)


	9. you'll live (as you've never lived before)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone was screaming.
> 
> Sometimes, it trickled out as words. Please, let me out, Dad. And sometimes, it came as nonsense. Just a long string of screaming, begging reduced to nothing. 
> 
> Ben scrambled to his feet.
> 
> He barely got the crutches up, and even if he didn’t, he would’ve crawled. Nothing could keep him from his brother. No broken bone, no open cut, no blood, no nothing. If Klaus needed him, he’d find a way to help him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bit of a quick turnaround since i JUST updated haha but i wanted to get this one out soon. I probably won't get a chance to update this story for another week bc i have a lot of schoolwork to get done, so i wanted to leave you with one more chapter :)

Hazel passed him a doughnut. Ben squinted at it as he tried to sit up; the man had to help him the rest of the way up. As his vision cleared, fuzzy but functional, he offered a shaky smile. “So I guess Griddy’s recovered pretty fast.”

“Nope.” Hazel sat down at the foot of the bed. “They still have to reinstall that booth you ripped out. It’s a gas station doughnut, so don’t expect much from it. It’s not as light and fluffy as it could be.”

“Thank you, though.” He wasn’t hungry, so he set it down next to him.

Making a face, the man nudged it closer. “Kid, you gotta eat. Did you ever touch the other doughnut I bought for you?”

“No, because the other one was on the house.”

“Eat. Or I’m not going to tell you the game plan.” He waited until Ben picked up the doughnut and nibbled at the side of it. Content with that, he nodded and leant back. “Anyway, I’ve figured out the closest you can get to your house without being  _ at  _ your house. Do you know how many offsite locations your father has?”

Ben nodded. “He likes ‘spreading out his assets.’ That way, he can train us without the public picking up on it.”

“Right. So there’s one close to the house… It has a mausoleum.”

Ben dropped his doughnut.

The two of them stared at it for a few seconds before he peeled off the blanket still pooled around his waist. It left behind pink frosting, and on the doughnut, strands of hair peeked out. With a frown, he placed it back on the plate and set it aside. No matter how much mothering Hazel wanted to do, it’d be disgusting to eat now. 

Hazel made a noise. “You wasted a good doughnut.”

“It wasn’t  _ that  _ good,” Ben tried. When he sent him a disbelieving stare, he threw up his hands in mock surrender with a smirk. Hazel rolled his eyes. 

Then, he settled back down, sobering up. “The mausoleum? Really?” 

“Don’t have good memories there?”

“Do most people have good memories with mausoleums?” Still, he twisted the blankets down at his side, thinking of his brother. He visited it a few times by accident. Klaus got stuck in the mausoleum once more after he died, and Ben tried to spend the night with him there. But Klaus couldn’t see him—he just screamed and screamed and  _ screamed  _ at the touch of other phantoms in the room. He recoiled and panted and sobbed, and the whole time, an ache built up in Ben’s chest until he wanted to leave. 

If Klaus could survive it, he tried to reason with himself, he could survive it.

Then, Klaus glanced over at him and looked through him, and Ben understood how easy it must be for ghosts to go insane. Klaus would always be his only link to this world. If  _ Klaus  _ couldn’t see him… And when he begged for Klaus to talk to him, he wondered if it came out of concern or something else. Maybe, he thought, he just needed someone’s attention. Doesn’t that make him like every other ghost?

Hazel reached over, patting him on the shoulder. “Buck up, kid. You don’t have to go inside if you don’t want… I’m sure Hargreeves has cameras on the grounds. The second he sees you, he’ll send someone after you.”

“Or a hitman,” he mumbled underneath his breath.

He shook his head. “Your old man already sent people out roaming the streets for you, and he’s paid off some of the homeless to help track you down. They couldn’t give you away, though. Nobody knows where you went after you ‘caused the disaster at Griddy’s.’”

“Am I taking the fall for that?” Ben glanced away.

“See for yourself.” Hazel laughed and got up, crossing the room. Right as Ben looked back at him, he tossed a newspaper at him. He barely managed to catch it before it hit his face. As he spread it out in front of him, he paused. 

They used an old photo of him on the cover; he donned his domino mask and a bloodless uniform. He didn’t remember which mission that was from, but he was smiling ever so slightly. Ben ran a thumb over that smile; he hadn’t learnt how it’d be used against him yet. The headline, in bold ink above it, labelled him a hero.  _ ‘The Savior of Griddy’s Bar,’  _ it proclaimed him as if he hadn’t brought danger there in the first place.

He skimmed the article, reaching the end where it posed one question. 

_ ‘If Number Six can venture out without his siblings, it leaves the pressing question—what is next for the Umbrella Academy? Will they no longer be a team but rather individuals?’ _

“They actually didn’t hate me,” Ben whispered.

Hazel shrugged. “Give it a week or two. They’ll spin it a different way. That’s why we only ever use newspapers for dates. The media tries so hard to get the best reaction they completely muddle any of the real facts. Oh, minus my favorite bit. Did you see where they mentioned the Swedes?”

“Yeah.” They called them ‘foreigners,’ and it left a bad taste in Ben’s mouth. 

A smile started to split the man’s face. “It means the Commission can’t deny the Handler’s meddling now. She took a risk by recruiting those three brothers, and since one of them kicked it, now they’re trying to get revenge on you. Anything you do can be claimed as self-defense… She’ll face some serious repercussions.”

“Serious enough she’ll leave me and my family alone?”

“Well, no. She’d need another bullet in her head to do that.” He chuckled, but there wasn’t any real humor. “But things are starting to look up. Think you’re almost ready to face your family again?”

“I’m ready. I’ve been ready.” He just couldn’t go back home. 

Hazel paused before nodding. “I got you new clothes in the bathroom.”

“You need to stop buying me stuff. I’m really not… Worth it.” He struggled to find the right words as he eased out of bed. Hazel passed him the crutches as he hopped over to the motel’s bathroom. It smelled like air freshener now, thick enough he thought he’d be able to taste it, but it drowned out any lingering remains of the blood. 

Hazel snorted. “I think you’ll like it. Did you know you’re surprisingly coherent when you sleep talk?”

“Oh. I talk in my sleep?” He never had that particular habit before. Maybe it came out due to stress or sickness or whatever else he had against him at this rate. “What did we talk about?”

“I just asked what you’d like to wear if you got a choice. You don’t seem to have a lot of those.”

“A lot of what?”

“Choices.”

Ben hummed, unsure what to say. Then, as he eased into the bathroom, he caught sight of the gifts assembled on the sink. He gasped, ignoring how sharp it felt against his skin. Casting the crutches aside, he stumbled the rest of the way to the sink.  _ He wasn’t going to cry, he wasn’t going to cry, he— _

“Thank you,” he whispered.

Hazel nodded. “No problem, kid. I’ll leave you to get changed.”

Ben glanced up at the mirror as he tossed the hair gel back and forth. Then, clumsily, he slicked back his hair like he maintained it as a ghost. He never needed actual hair gel to do it, but he spent enough time in salons to know how to do it. It felt weird, his hair rippling through his fingers, so, so, so real. But he pushed it out of his face, and it held back better than the sweat, the blood, and the rain managed to keep it.

As gentle as possible, he eased out of the sweatpants and slid into the tighter, darker pants. He hissed as it bumped against his foot, but he  _ wanted  _ this. At least this way, they actually fit him right. He felt older; he  _ looked  _ older. He shoved the boot on his good foot and left the wrapped one alone.

Then, he adjusted his sweatshirt, unwilling to take it off. 

He wiggled the leather jacket over top it, and he hiccupped out a sob. He blinked rapidly, avoiding the lump growing in his throat. As his numb fingers guided his jacket close, it kept building and building  _ and building.  _

When he met his eyes in the mirror again, he choked.

Because there he was—himself in so many ways he couldn’t identify. He couldn’t be sixteen or twenty-nine or whatever age he could claim. But he looked closer to it; he looked more settled in his skin like this than in the uniform. And yes, he lived as a ghost like this, looking like this, but he died in the other uniform. He choked and suffocated and begged, but he died in those clothes which never really belonged to him. 

These clothes didn’t belong to Reginald or Grace or whoever else governed his life. They didn’t even belong to Klaus. Klaus never understood his obsession with dark clothes, and he didn’t get why he clung to the leather jacket thrown over his dying body. But they  _ meant  _ something. That jacket was the only time he wore something that truly belonged to him, and it came in his death. Nobody told him to wear it. 

He  _ chose  _ to wear it.

He could dress however he wanted in death, and he always chose to dress like this. Klaus mocked him, called him an emo, and Ben took all of it with a smile. Klaus told him he’d grow out of it; he told Klaus he wouldn’t be doing any more growing.

He still had growing to do like this.

No more Number Six. Just Ben and the Horror, making their own choices, being the person  _ they  _ want to be.

The Horror rumbled its approval as Ben wiped at his tears again. Then, he grabbed his crutches and made his way out of the bathroom. He had a family to save.

-

Hazel slid the car to a stop five minutes out from the mausoleum. They both agreed it’d be too suspicious for him to arrive with the older man; the last thing either wanted was for Reginald to try and hunt him down. If he managed to find out somehow, it’d be after significant effort. Besides, with the crutches, Ben could  _ probably  _ make it the rest of the way by himself.

Hazel reached over, patting his knee. Ben gritted his teeth to hide his flinch; those were still skinned from falling over. He eased up anyway. “I got you a present.”

“Another one? Hazel, you didn’t have to—” But the man shushed him and passed over a round watch. “What’s that for?”

“Set the time to six o’clock sharp.” Ben knew it wasn’t six, but he started to spin it anyway. Hazel reached out and grabbed his wrist. “Not clockwise.”

He blinked; Reginald trained them on this like everything else. He didn’t want to wear out the gears in the watches he purchased for them. Ben still had a distant memory of Pogo giving them watches for Christmas when they were only four years old. They weren’t fun, they weren’t exciting, but everyone played with them like they were toy dinosaurs and ponies.

He spun it counterclockwise until it hit six, and the clock face fogged over, revealing something which looked eerily like…

Ben grinned. “Can I text you off this?”

“As long as you spin it counterclockwise until it hits 6. We need to be somewhat subtle, but I imagine you might need me in the future.” Hazel smiled back, a strange sort of happiness pulling at his features.

It took a few seconds for Ben to understand it. 

“We’ll go out to Griddy’s more often,” Ben promised. “As often as possible. I, uh… I really like the doughnuts there.”

“Good kid. Now, go save your family.” He clapped a hand on Ben’s shoulder, and he beamed one last time at the man. “And if you need help, you have a way to contact me. I’m taking what you said seriously. I will make amends with your family any way I can, and this is the best start.”

“Thank you, Hazel.” He slipped out of the car, wobbling on those crutches, and he watched as the car peeled away. He didn’t know where Hazel went when he wasn’t with Ben; neither of them talked about that. Last night, the most they talked about was time travel (which Ben still didn’t understand) and things which held no real weight to them (best flavors of ice cream, favorite books). 

Ben took a deep breath before starting down the way to the mausoleum. 

In a strange parody to his exodus from the mansion, people don’t bother trying to avoid him. They sent him concerned glances, a few women asked him if he needed help, and people gawked at him as if he’s real. He no longer was another shadow on the street they had to avoid. He wasn’t one of New York’s dirty secrets again.

It rubbed him the wrong way. If he could control anything, he’d change this perspective. He’d find ways to open more rehabs for addicts and more homeless shelters. Reginald could donate some of his wealth there—if their father died soon, he knew what he’d spend his inheritance on. And it wouldn’t be drugs or whatever Allison wanted… He’d be content with a library card and a family dinner every few nights.

By the time he reached the plot of land the mausoleum stood on, Ben shook and panted. Those painkillers did  _ nothing  _ for him. If he traded for something stronger, though, he might encourage Klaus. And… No. He could live with a little pain.

The Horror rumbled inside him, all nervous energy. He laughed lightly, reaching down to hug his stomach before squaring his shoulders. He murmured to it, as quiet as he dared with people walking past it. “Don’t want to see the family again?”

Its frustration and anxiety pumped through him, and he swayed at its weight. “They’re not going to be mad—”

The message carried the next moment— _ fearanxietynumbnumbnumb— _ and Ben swallowed hard. “I know they’re fighting, but we’ll fix that. They won’t… It’s our job, remember? We were always the mediator of the family.”

_ (Once, Klaus kicked him out of his room. They were eleven, maybe twelve. It was before the death and the drugs and the desperation and that deafening silence. “You never take anyone’s side! You just… Drift. Why don’t you care?” _

_ “I do care,” Ben tried. _

_ He snorted. “You never fight for anything.” _

_ “They’re not battles worth fighting!” Because who cared if Diego ripped one of Klaus’s scarves? They would buy another one. Who cared if Vanya and Luther bickered over a school project? It wouldn’t change anything. The only thing they could control, the only thing Reginald didn’t have an ironclad hold on, would always be the family. To think anything else would be… It would make them like Five. _

_ And Five was gone.) _

Ben shook those thoughts out of his head, taking in the mausoleum instead. The white building loomed on the hill, tombstones lining the brick path up there. All of them were weathered and worn; he never found out whose names read on them. Inside the mausoleum, he knew Reginald kept it dark. No lights hung there, and when those heavy marble doors closed, nothing could be seen. 

And in front of it all, a heavy black gate sat. 

Running his fingers over the lock, he hesitated. Then, he glanced down at his stomach. Ben didn’t learn how to pick locks like Diego, and he didn’t have a key. Considering he could barely walk, climbing the fence wouldn’t be an option either. It just left… 

He let one tentacle of the Horror slip out. It wavered in the air for a few seconds, enjoying the bright sunlight on its skin. Then, it eased forward, wrapping tight around the lock. It started to squeeze, blue skin flushing darker and darker, until it released with a  _ crack! _

Ben didn’t need to pull it back in; the Horror went back all on its own.

“Thanks,” he mumbled. It didn’t respond, and Ben started up the hill. The crutches threatened to slip on the uneven terrain, so it was slow going. It was fine. He’d just sit at the top and wait… Wait for Reginald to get some notification about the gate being disturbed. 

He only got halfway up the hill before he heard something and tripped.

The noise distorted all around him while his ears rang, echoing it back to him. It twisted and changed, the words stretching and shrinking, until he finally understood it. As his ankle throbbed in time with his heart, it started to pick up. The Horror twisted and thrashed, a certain desperation flooding through his veins.

Someone was  _ screaming. _

Sometimes, it trickled out as words.  _ Please, let me out, Dad.  _ And sometimes, it came as nonsense. Just a long string of screaming, begging reduced to nothing. 

Ben scrambled to his feet.

He barely got the crutches up, and even if he didn’t, he would’ve crawled. Nothing could keep him from his brother. No broken bone, no open cut, no blood, no nothing. If Klaus needed him, he’d find a way to help him. 

In a matter of seconds, he crested the hill and slammed against the door, banging against it. The screaming stopped as Ben tried to catch his breath. “Klaus?”

_ “Dad?” _

“No. It’s… It’s Ben.”

_ “No, no, no, it can’t… Ben ran away. He’s gone—”  _ He choked on a sob.  _ “You’re trying to trick me. But you can’t, you can’t—” _

“It’s Ben,” he whispered. He tried at the door, but it refused to budge. How did Reginald get this open? As his fingers dug into the iron to no avail, the Horror started to growl inside him, its anger magnifying his own. He pulled back and slapped the iron lock, blood clustered at his fingertips now. “Fuck!” 

_ “G-go away,”  _ Klaus moaned.

Nobody should be able to make Klaus that scared; nobody should torture his brother like that. Ben took a few steps back, eyes narrowing on the mausoleum. Their father had no  _ right.  _ Klaus was allowed to be scared of his powers, of the ghosts. They refused to leave him alone. They twisted and twisted until they barely seemed human anymore, and he just kept locking him with them. With murderers and criminals. Their father was no better than the Swedes, than the Commission. Their father was  _ worse  _ than Hazel because Hazel only tortured him once. Reginald did it again and again.

_ Protectprotectprotectprotectprotect— _

Ben reached inside and yanked open the portal, and the Horror burst out again. All five tentacles arched towards the mausoleum, shaking with venom. Ben watched as they reached in the gaps of the door and  _ pulled.  _ The iron screamed and screeched as it twisted out of shape, and the Horror sent it flying to the side.

They’d gut it; they’d tear away the skin and bones to reach Klaus until only an empty shell remained of the mausoleum. And it’d still be too kind. It deserved to be reduced to rubble, deserved to become nothing because  _ nothing could hurt Klaus like that.  _ Not the ghosts, not the mausoleum, not Reginald. 

The Horror screamed for blood as they ripped away another layer.

_ “Ben?” _

And nobody ever saved Klaus. They always left him here, alone, out to dry.  _ At least,  _ they thought,  _ it wasn’t their individual training.  _ It didn’t matter Klaus came back different every time. It didn’t matter the light in his eyes vanished, day by day. It didn’t matter Klaus couldn’t sleep on those days without drugs. It didn’t matter they watched their brother decay in front of them because they were all so, so, so selfish.

_ “Ben, what’s—Am I hallucinating—” _

One of the tentacles stopped in its fight, scooping down and tugging someone closer.

And then, someone was cupping his face, hands shaking.  _ “Ben, you came back… You… I… This is real?” _

Ben blinked. 

Klaus leant forward, stroking a hand on one of the tentacles. “C-can… Can you pull them back in? I… I…”

Ben blinked again.

“Can you hear me, Ben—” His voice cracked, and Klaus sagged with the weight of his sobbing.

The Horror retreated back inside Ben, and he gasped sharply as the red faded out of his vision. He lurched forward, almost falling, but Klaus giggled, wet and scared, catching him with ease. “You came back.”

“I…” The world spun as he pressed his forehead against Klaus’s. “I didn’t… I didn’t want to leave. I  _ won’t  _ leave you.”

“Yeah?” Klaus hiccupped, shoulders shaking. “Ben, I… You destroyed the mausoleum.”

“I’d do it again.”

“Dad’s gonna be so pissed—” He giggled again, and when his knees buckled, Ben followed him to the ground. He winced as his foot hit the ground, but he crawled closer to Klaus. His brother felt so  _ cold,  _ stuck in the mausoleum all night. He should’ve come here sooner. He should’ve destroyed it sooner.

Klaus pressed his hands against his eyes, trying to quiet down. Ben crawled forward and wrapped him in a hug again. He hesitated before melting into it. “I’ve missed you… I thought… I… I didn’t know where you went.”

“It’s complicated,” he murmured.

“I…” Klaus hesitated. “Thank you for coming back. And… And getting rid of the mausoleum. I owe you.”

“You don’t owe me anything.”

“Then, uh, thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

-

Perfect moments couldn’t last forever. Ben knew that; Klaus knew that. They sat, backs to the destroyed gates, as Ben rambled off what he remembered from movies which hadn’t come out yet. He drowned out the ghosts, though, and his brother kept sending him smiles even though he messed up the stories. He was pretty sure he killed off Regina George twice only to realize she didn’t die. 

When a car pulled up behind the two of them, neither of them needed to turn around to know who it was. Ben entwined their fingers. Klaus’s still bled from where he clawed at the walls in his desperation to get out. “I’m taking the fall. You didn’t do anything.”

“Ben, he’s going to treat you like shit,” he said in a small voice.

Ben shrugged. “What’s he going to do? Kill me?”

And he laughed while Klaus watched him, bottom lip trembling. Reginald would never kill any of them. He liked his toy soldiers too much to do that, and besides, the Horror would  _ love  _ a chance to go one-on-one with him. As he squeezed Klaus’s hand tighter, his brother finally offered a little nod.

The car stopped, and a second later, their father’s voice split through the air. “Number Four! What have you done? And who are you with— _ Number Six?” _

“Ben?” That voice gave him pause. Ben twisted around to see Allison staring at him, partially hidden behind Luther and their father. She was playing with the ends of her scarf, winter coat on despite the minimal chill, and she swiped at her eyes as subtly as she could afford. “You… You came back?”

“Why are you shocked, Number Three? I believe you said you were uninvolved with him running away,” Reginald snapped, taking a step towards the gate and tugging it open with ease. His scowl only grew. “Am I to presume you are the one who destroyed everything on this property, Number Six?”

He glanced at Klaus; he stared back at him like he might start crying again. Then, his brother took a deep breath and let passiveness wash over his expression. He looked towards Luther; his brother refused to look at him. Instead, he gawked at the broken mausoleum as if he couldn’t comprehend how Ben did that much damage. He made eye contact with Allison; she looked away and played with her scarf again, shifting from foot to foot but biting her lip to keep the words from slipping out.

“Yep,” he finally said. 

Reginald’s expression darkened. “I see. And wherever did you get that outfit? It’s not befitting of a member of the Umbrella Academy.”

He glanced over at Klaus. He squeezed his hand. “Then, I quit.”

“You quit,” he echoed.

He nodded. “The Umbrella Academy needs to change. I refuse to go back to a place with the mausoleum.”

“I am simply attempting to help you reach your full potential. You are still clearly lacking in control—”

“I meant to destroy the mausoleum,” he said evenly. Ben lifted his head defiantly and watched as Reginald struggled to find the words. “And I meant to destroy the lock. It’s not the Horror acting out. It’s intentional. I’m…  _ We’re  _ going to protect my siblings, even if it’s from you.”

“You can’t be serious. There is nothing to be protected from.” His eyes glinted behind the monocle. “Barring, perhaps, yourself. That recklessness you’ve demonstrated has proven you are correct; you do  _ not  _ have a spot on the Umbrella Academy. I will arrange for you to have a new lodging until you can calm down.”

“Not going to sell me?” All three of his siblings watched him with terror written across his face. Ben tried to offer a reassuring smile. “I thought that was your current plan.”

“I can—”

“Then,” Ben pressed on, “I can go to any newspaper and offer a tell-all. Maybe even write a memoir. And when they read about everything you’ve done to us, they’ll have enough reason to search our house. What do you think they’ll find, Dad? The water tanks you trapped Diego in? The ‘training’ exercises you made us undergo? The mausoleum? Every single person who died at our house?”

“They’ll find all the men you’ve killed with the Horror,” Reginald said, just as evenly. 

Ben shrugged. “Okay.”

“Okay?” he repeated. “You’re suffering from delusions if you truly believe you could simply ‘save’ your siblings. Do you know what I see in front of me right now? I see a damaged, broken little boy playing with things far beyond his understanding, and while he might be able to tap into the powers of an Eldritch god, he does not wield its power. And this confident facade of yours will shatter when you realize you have no real control of the Horror. When it wants to attack, it does. When it wants to stay calm, it does. You have no influence over its emotions; it appears, however, it has influence over yours.”

“It doesn’t scare me anymore,” he said instantly, and he paused, drinking in the words. When did those become true? “You can’t scare me with it anymore.”

“You’re speaking as a hostage. Look at yourself, Number Six. How many broken bones? How much blood have you lost? And this…  _ Attire  _ of yours. It certainly doesn’t line up with any observations I’ve made of you. It’s taking over your body.” Reginald curled his lip, regarding him like an experiment. His skin buzzed, vulnerable, and the Horror recoiled. “If you continue on this foolish path of yours, there will be nothing left of you. It’s safer to come with me, and as I train you off-site to make sure you do not injure any of your siblings, we will find a way to…  _ Extract  _ it before it consumes you.”

“Why don’t you just make Allison Rumor me then?” His gaze slid over to her, and she flinched. “Like you did with Vanya.”

“I cannot indulge your delusions anymore. Number One, get Number Six to his feet. And Number Four, trust me, I will get the mausoleum made again. It’s incredibly  _ disrespectful  _ to the dead to do that.” He turned on his heel and went to return to the car.

Klaus dug his fingers into Ben’s palm before shouting. “You’re a dick, you know.”

_ “What  _ was that, Number Four?” He didn’t turn and face them.

Klaus dug in tighter, and his whole body shook from the tension. “You’re… You’re a dick. I… I saw them. The ghosts. They’re… They’re our old nannies, aren’t they? That’s how they know my name.”

Reginald paused, mulling over the words as he placed one hand on the door handle. Then, he glanced over his shoulder at the two of them. “Yes. They’re the nannies your siblings have killed.”

“There are so many of them,” Klaus’s voice grew more distant, and Ben clamped down. He shook himself a little, offering a tiny smile to Ben, before clearing his throat. “What… What about their families? They’re always asking for me to tell their families the truth. What did you tell them? They want justice—”

“I see you still haven’t learnt how to banish ghosts then. Perhaps you need greater training.” Reginald pulled the door open and raised another hand. 

Ben didn’t know what the gesture meant, but Allison clearly did. She stepped forward, clearing her throat, and Klaus cringed, covering his ears. He pulled his brother into his chest, placing his hands over his. 

The words didn’t come out.

Allison stared at them while Luther nodded encouragingly. “Dad…”

She was going to cry, again. He could see it written all across her face as she struggled to find the words. Ben pushed Klaus back a little, biting down on his lip before shaking his head. “I can’t go home.”

“Why not?” Luther asked, confused. Reginald slammed shut the door, and he jolted, taking a step forward as if he might scoop them up.

Klaus tightened his grip on Ben, forcing him back into the hug. Ben shook his head. “I can’t.”

“I—”

_ “I heard a Rumor,”  _ Allison interrupted, ignoring how Klaus and Luther both flinched again,  _ “my last Rumor didn’t work anymore.” _

It sunk in, and Ben blinked, head buzzing. Klaus glanced at him, mouth moving. Ben couldn’t tell if he just couldn’t hear it yet, or he just didn’t speak. Then, someone was pulling him to his feet, and Ben jerked away from him, falling over Klaus. 

Klaus threw up his hands, shifting protectively in front of Ben. “Okay! Okay, okay, okay, we’ll come back. Allison, you don’t have to Rumor us. And Luther, you don’t have to be a Mini Dad and like, carry us out like babies. We’ll come back.”

“Klaus—”

“We can’t do anything without Di,” he murmured.

Ben considered a little before sighing. “And Vanya and Five. Can you… Can you grab me my crutches?”

“Yeah, of course.” Klaus tugged him up before passing the crutches over. He offered his brother his brightest smile, and Klaus gave him a little one back. Allison and Luther both averted their gaze as if they’d never seen them before. Ben gritted his teeth and pretended not to notice, passing in front of both of them.

He paused, though, to whisper at him. “Family meeting. Tonight. Even if half the family hates each other right now. We have to talk.”

“Ben.” Luther grabbed his wrist, stopping him from moving forward. Ben cocked his head at him. “What happened? Where did you go? Where did you get all of this stuff?”

“I learnt what it meant to be someone other than a Hargreeves.” He shrugged. “I love you guys, but I could do without the training. And Dad.”

“You don’t mean that—” 

“I do.” Ben pushed around them and got into the car. It was a lot clumsier than he intended, but Klaus helped the rest of the way. As they eased in the second row of seats, Allison and Luther claimed the front. It felt like a mission, and it made his skin crawl.

Then, he realized his unease came from something else.

As Pogo eased the car forward, something hissed in the air vents. He paused, shifting closer to where the cold air should be seeping out. And it did feel cold… But it smelled weird. As he glanced over at Klaus, his brother looked confused too.

Allison and Luther glanced around. Luther ventured the question first. “Dad? What’s that smell?” 

Ben inhaled again, and the car spun around him. He slumped against Klaus. 

Reginald turned around, a gas mask on. “I always come prepared, children. The sooner you learn that, the better.”

“He drugged us,” Klaus mumbled, his head drooping. 

Ben’s eyes started to flutter, and the Horror roared. He pressed a hand against his stomach, pushing it away. “It… It sounds like him.”

“Dad? Why would you…?” Allison’s voice drifted off.

Reginald’s mask glared back at Ben, and he knew, as he drifted under, he would not be waking up in the same place as all of his siblings. 

“Dick,” Klaus spat, and Ben agreed.

-

The lights flickered overhead.

Ben blinked in time with the lights, coming out of the haze. Light. Dark. Light. Dark. Curling up, he brought his knees to his chest before remembering his broken foot. Then, he shifted and sat straight up, observing the rest of the room.

Spikes lined every surface. The walls, the ceiling, even the light blinking in and out. The floor was cool metal, and Ben spread his fingers on it, letting it seep into his bones. Just beyond, a metal door kept him from the rest of the house. He cocked his head before staggering upright, pressing against it.

_ Oh. _

_ Oh, he knew this room. _

They gave him Vanya’s prison. No outside noise would get to him; it was meant to stimulate absolute nothingness. Already, it began to wear on Ben. His body adjusted to the cold, and his eyes adjusted to the light. He pressed a hand against the glass and squinted, trying to see if any of his siblings clustered outside.

But there was nobody there for him.

How long would Reginald make him wait in here? He knew there must be some kind of camera; if he trapped Vanya in here, he had to try and observe her. Right? Ben limped-hopped backwards (they stole his crutches at some point), craning back his head to try and see if a camera watched him.

The lights blinded him. Light. Dark. Light. Dark.

He pressed his hands against his eyes, trying to clear away the dizziness, before settling back into one of the corners of the room. Then, he reached into himself, fishing around for the Horror. The same prison for Vanya couldn’t be its prison.

The Horror unraveled from inside him, and he smiled up at it. As he reached out, he hesitantly placed a hand on its tentacle, petting it. It purred in response, and Ben laughed. “Think you can rip the door off?”

It stretched out, and it slammed against it. Ben winced as the impact rolled through his whole body. It tried again, and again, and again, before with a hiss, it retreated back into Ben’s body. 

It was too weak.

Ben hugged his stomach, cocking his head at the door. “What do you think it’s made of?”

He must look insane through the cameras. Since when was Ben willing to talk to the Horror? How would he explain that to his siblings? How would—

Someone knocked against the window, and while he couldn’t hear it, he could see their fist moving. Ben took a deep breath and hauled himself back to his feet, trying to cross the room as fast as possible.

On the other side, Five studied him. Then, he held up a notebook with his familiar scrawl on it.

_ What happened? _

Ben shrugged. He couldn’t mouth it well enough for Five to understand; it’d be a very one-sided conversation. Then, he hesitated and placed his finger on the glass. It might be backwards to Five, but Five was always the smartest in the family. If he kept the room a little colder, he’d be able to fog up the glass.

Instead, he traced  _ ‘D A D.’ _

Five nodded and flipped the page in his notebook, uncapping his marker with his teeth. Ben resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He’d ruin all of his teeth—though considering he lived in the apocalypse by himself for so long with no long-term dental problems, maybe he underestimated Five.

_ Dad’s going berserk. Still hasn’t gotten Allison to remove the Rumor. Vanya’s mad. Klaus’s mad. _

Ben nodded. It made sense. He tapped the glass, trying to point at Five. Somehow, his brother got the message, no matter how sloppy it was. He flipped another page in the notebook, scribbling down another message. Then, he pressed it against the glass, and Ben leaned forward.

_ I’m holding up fine. I just want to get you out of there, and I can’t even teleport and keep you company. _

Ben shook his head as fast as he could, but Five still hadn’t removed the notebook. He huffed; he read books for  _ fun.  _ He read the most books out of everyone in the family. He could read faster than this. Still, he had to wait for Five to pull it back down, and he shook his head again. 

Deliberately slow, he mouthed  _ ‘thank you.’ _

Five snorted and ran a hand through his hair. He took a second, stalking around the room and mumbling to himself. Ben smiled and waited for him to settle down. By the time he returned, he ripped out a page and wrote out the next thing.

_ Dad keeps talking about a fucking mission though. How are we supposed to go on one? We’d all die. You’re locked up, I’m powerless, Klaus is useless as always, Vanya doesn’t ‘have powers.’ That leaves what? Luther, Diego, Allison? Good luck. _

His blood ran cold. He couldn’t let his family go on a mission. He… Ben  _ just  _ met the Swedes again, and they were out for blood. And now that Hazel was willing to help him, the Commission would be gunning for his head—

Wait.

Ben shifted his sleeve up, and he grinned when he saw the watch still there. Then, he glanced up at Five. He pointed at his stomach once and cocked his head.

Five cursed. It didn’t take a genius to make out what ended with ‘uck’ and started with ‘f.’

_ No Horror. You should see Dad’s theories—he thinks it’s invading your body. _

Ben laughed, exhausted. How exactly would the Horror invade a body it already belonged to? Still, the reaction didn’t seem to ease Five’s fears. He pointed at the Horror again and then at the door. Then, he shook his head. Five furrowed his brow, trying to figure out what that could mean. 

He missed having conversations.

_ Is the Horror too weak to break through? Have you tried? _

He nodded twice.

His brother stalked backwards, ripping at his hair, before grabbing the notebook again. 

_ Then don’t break out. _

How would he break—

It dawned on him as Five nodded furiously at him. The Horror could be strong enough to rip the door off the hinges; it just needed to be at full strength. And as Ben limped backwards, considering, he knew how he could get it at full strength. The two of them depended on each other for almost everything. He hadn’t eaten in days, and he still wasn’t hungry. The Horror was satisfied. The rest of the strength it needed…

Could Ben donate his to it? If he decided to let it be the host of the body while he drove, backseat, would it be able to get them out? If he gave every ounce of himself over to the Horror, every ache and pain and every morsel of strength, would the Horror be able to free them from this prison?

The Horror rumbled its approval.

_ Do! Not! Break! Out! _

Ben hesitated before tapping the glass over Five’s shoulder. He scowled, confused, but Ben didn’t stop until he whirled around. Then, he saw what Ben kept staring at—the alarm still visible over his shoulder. When Five glanced back at him, he tapped against his stomach. 

Five blinked. 

_ We can handle ourselves without you. _

Ben raised an eyebrow. He just said if there was a mission, they might all die. Ben wasn’t going to believe him just because Five had always been a little self-sacrificing. No, if the alarm went off, he’d do whatever he needed to protect the rest of his family. If that meant losing a part of himself in the process, so be it. He wouldn’t be anything without them anyway. If anyone had to die in the family, it was him.

He was the one who wasn’t supposed to be alive.

He was the one who might drive them all insane.

He was the one who changed things.

If anyone else died, it was because of Ben. There was no way around that fact, no negotiation. He already played a dangerous game with time. The Commission already wanted him dead. Maybe, he’d be doing all of them a favor.

Before Five could respond, Ben shook his head and limped back to the corner. He turned his back to his brother and hunched over his wrist, making sure no camera could see what he’d be doing.

He spun the watch counterclockwise.

_ ‘Hi, Hazel! Text me in, say, twelve hours. If I don’t respond right away, then something bad happened. Look after my family if anything bad happens. Thank you, for everything. -Ben.’ _

And then, he settled back, two arms wrapped around the Horror in the semblance of a hug.

-

The alarm went off.

-

_ The alarm went off. _

-

Ben exhaled, breath shaking and lungs aching.

-

_ It inhaled, the cold burning in a familiar, welcome way. _

-

He watched the lights flicker. Light. Dark. Red. Red. Red.

_ - _

_ Dark. Light. Blue. Blue. Blue. _

-

Ben let go.

-

_ The Horror grasped control. _

_ Outside the chamber, the lights remained insistent—bright, bright red. It hadn’t seen something to that degree since it devoured the last threat to the family. Ben deflated, body going completely limp, as its tentacles exited the portal.  _

_ But his heartbeat continued, a steady drumming in the Horror’s head. It could no longer read Ben’s thoughts; as he let go, he drifted on an endless, dreamless sleep. It was kind, the Horror decided. This would be more merciful. Existence with no control was no existence at all. _

_ The alarm flashed again; none of its sound sunk past the steel door. Still, it remembered the sound of it. Always loud, always piercing, always accompanied by a spike of fear and unease from Ben. The boy was always scared to shed blood. He didn’t understand hunger; he didn’t understand need. _

_ He would soon. _

_ The five tentacles swayed in the air as it debated its next move. Ben’s strength pulsed into it as he grew paler and paler. His heartbeat slowed, but it never let up. The Horror wouldn’t let the boy pass on—not again. Against its better judgment, it grew… Attached to the boy. To the portal. Its life was his life; its siblings were his siblings. _

_ And it must protect their siblings, no matter the cost. _

_ It forced its tentacles forward, and it slammed against the door, resonating with a deafening high note. When it pulled back, the door still stood, but dents remained where it lunged forward. The Horror curled back before trying again, landing in the same spot, and it went flying backwards this time.  _

_ The door clattered down the hallway. _

_ The Horror purred.  _

_ The stubs of the fallen tentacles—three of them, mangled and chewed off and always, always in pain—fished around inside the boy’s body. At the sensation, it could start controlling his body, just like he always controlled the Horror. It pulled at Ben’s consciousness, getting him to jerk his head up and stand up on shaky legs. It yanked at him, getting him to take a few choppy steps (but it took care to make sure no weight settled on his broken foot. Its human was so fragile, and he never even seemed to notice). _

_ It couldn’t waste time with his limping and staggering though. It used two tentacles to balance his body, getting the boy airborne, and it started to surge forward, leaving the chamber behind. The boy’s head started to loll again, but it forced him back up with one well-timed stab of a tentacle stub. Their siblings would assume the worst if he did not pretend to be conscious. _

_ The boy’s father poisoned their siblings against the Horror. He acted as if it could possess Ben without his consent. If it had the ability, Ben would’ve lost control long ago. However, the world chose this particular host, this portal, for the Horror for a reason. The boy might lose control, but he knew how to keep his calm. He knew how to rule over their body, and he won the war, even if the Horror won many battles. _

_ But Ben could do so little. He was too small, too young. And even if the two had travelled back from the future, courtesy of one of the Horror’s favorite brothers, Ben was still too, too young. The Horror had lived years and years in its own dimension. And yet, only with Ben, had it felt like it really lived.  _

_ It would be damned if it lost its life again. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)))))


	10. born into emptiness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lightbulb exploded over their head, and they all cut off. Vanya’s eyes glowed silver before she shook her head, blinking rapidly. Everyone watched her now. “Do you hear that?”
> 
> “Hear what, Vanya?” Diego asked, a bite in his voice.
> 
> A few seconds later, someone opened fire downstairs. Allison jumped into Luther again, and he wrapped her close. Five leapt to his feet while Vanya grabbed at his arm, trying to keep him still. Klaus flinched, growing pale, and he curled in on himself, covering his ears. Diego’s knife jolted out of his hand and somehow ended up in the ceiling. 
> 
> As the rapid-fire stopped, a woman’s voice drifted out, sugary sweet. “Oh, Hargreeves! I’ve been wondering when I’d get a chance to see you all again. You’re wearing the cute little uniform, aren’t you? Ah… At least you’ll all be looking adorable when I finally, finally get to get rid of you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually CUT parts of this chapter, and it still ended up being about double the size of a typical chapter. AND i rewrote it, so if you were wondering why it took me so long, that's why haha. But, that said, I'm actually decently happy with this chapter (though why are action scenes so difficult to write??)

Luther stood outside Five’s room, fist poised over the door. The other four hid in there. Five spat names at him, more venomous than he ever meant them before, when he slammed the door in his face. At some point, he turned all his siblings against him… The only people he had left were Allison and Dad.

When Dad demanded Luther started training on his own, he didn’t expect so much…  _ Resistance.  _ Klaus laughed and bounced off, and Five flipped him off. Even Diego refused. Luther grabbed his arm, and Diego ended up cutting his hand to get free. His palm still bled onto the hardwood floor.

If he couldn’t get them downstairs for lunch, though, Dad would rip Luther to pieces. His father’s voice pounded in his ears.  _ “A team leader needs to get his team under control! Without the Umbrella Academy, you are  _ nothing.  _ Alone, you will all fail. You know that as well as I do, Number One. Or have I wasted time teaching you strategy? Are you simply too dense to comprehend the lessons?” _

He raised his face before lowering it again. He needed to stop his arm from trembling. If his siblings saw him like this, they’d laugh at him.

_ Look at Luther,  _ Five would say in his ever dry voice,  _ even he knows he’s a joke.  _

Someone placed a hand on his shoulder, and he jumped. Allison stared back at him, eyes still puffy from crying, but she offered a shaky smile. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t,” he said without skipping a beat. When she raised an eyebrow, he laughed. “Maybe a little, but… You’re not the scary one in the family.”

“They are?” She cocked her head toward the door before nodding. “Yeah, I can agree with that. God, once you get on the bad side of one of them, you get on the bad side of  _ all of them.  _ Ben’s mad at me, so Klaus and Vanya are too. And since Vanya’s mad at me, so is Five. And since Klaus’s mad at me, so is Diego. It’s… Stupid as fuck.”

“Allison, Dad doesn’t like it when you say stuff like that,” he chided softly.

She shrugged. “We gotta grow up sometime.” 

“It doesn’t mean… It doesn’t mean you have to grow up right now. Give them time!” He struggled to find the words before sighing, gesturing at her instead. “You’re  _ you.  _ How could anyone stay mad at you?” 

“I could say the same thing about you.” Shifting forward, she leant back against the door, stopping him from knocking. “Besides, the only thing you’ve done wrong is be…  _ Friends  _ with me. I Rumored Five. And I guess I Rumored Vanya not to remember her powers. And Klaus is somehow mad I didn’t Rumor him.”

“Do you ever think,” Luther said after a second, “our lives would be easier if we were ordinary?”

“I can’t imagine just… Giving up my powers. I don’t get Klaus.” She breathed out shakily, fiddling with the tips of her hair. 

“Losing mine wouldn’t make much of a difference… They’re not very impressive.” Luther learnt that a long time ago. They protected him, sure, but they lacked the flashiness needed to command respect from his siblings. He could lift a car, he could take a bullet to the chest, but it wouldn’t be enough. To be the best Number One, he needed the best powers. Yet, as his siblings discovered new layers to their abilities every day, he stagnated. No wonder they didn’t respect him anymore…

No. 

_ No,  _ he just needed to crack down. He just needed to command them again. Their father had no powers, but they all listened to him for the most part. Five always defied, and Ben… Ben was a wild card lately. He didn’t act like the little brother they all knew; he shook off his shyness and replaced it with something brasher.

He pulled Allison back from the door, but before he could knock, the alarms blared. She jumped into him, ramming her elbow against his gut, and he wheezed out a laugh. Turning to face him, she winced. “Sorry. That’s my bad.”

“It’s okay. I guess we got saved by the bell.” He tugged the door open, not bothering to knock. “Guys, it’s mission time. I need to run and grab my mask, but I expect to see all of you downstairs—”

“I’m not going.” Klaus laid on his back in the middle of the room, legs draped across Diego’s. He had one arm draped over his eyes like he might fall asleep any time now, but he peeked out at Allison and Luther. 

He froze. “That’s not an option. You and Diego have to come with us on the mission.”

“You two have to because we ‘don’t’ have powers,” Five drawled, putting air quotes on the words. He sat with Vanya on the bed, and she leant against him, head on his shoulder. She held her violin close to her chest, thumb strumming over the strings. 

Luther cleared his throat. “I’m sure Dad will allow Allison to give you your powers back. And Vanya…”

“Vanya doesn’t have them because Dad said, right?” Klaus snorted. “When are you gonna get tired of kissing his ass, Lulu?”

“I’m not—” He took a deep breath, trying to steel himself. He couldn’t act this  _ fazed  _ in front of them. Every time, they seized the opportunity to make him feel worse. They couldn’t get under his skin like this; he was in charge of them. “It doesn’t matter. Diego, Klaus, get up. We need to get ready. We’re responsible—”

“We’re not responsible for shit,” Diego snapped. He glanced up from where he sharpened his knife. 

Allison groaned. “Can we… Can we deal with this later? I know we’re upset, but we need to be adults about it—”

“Why? We’re thirteen,” Five said. “Let the police and the military deal with these issues.”

“I wouldn’t go that far—”

“Pick a fucking side.” Ripping away from Vanya, Five snatched up a pillow and lobbed it at Diego’s face. He snatched it out of the air with ease and tossed it straight up, curving it to go straight towards their brother. He jerked on the bed, but he didn’t move.

It took Luther a few seconds to realize Five tried to teleport.

He slammed a hand down on the bed, growling. “See? Your little  _ team act  _ doesn’t make any sense when she was so willing to screw us all over! Just ask Ben! Do you think he’s cozy in solitary confinement?”

“I’m sorry.” Allison raised her hands in surrender.  _ “I heard a Rumor—”  _

“You’re going to Rumor us? Seriously?” 

_ “La-la-la-la-la!” _

“Allison, what the  _ fuck?” _

“Haven’t you done enough of that?”

“Stop shouting at her!”

“Says the one who imprisoned Ben!”

“Yeah, what about Ben?”

“Shut—” 

Control spun out of his hands, and the words soured in his mouth. He needed to shut this down, fast. His father’s voice boomed in his head.  _ (“Control your team lest I dissolve it due to all of the infighting and disobedience as of late.”)  _ When Dad raised his voice, they all listened. So, Luther tried to raise his voice.

It only made Five and Diego yell louder.

A lightbulb exploded over their head, and they all cut off. Vanya’s eyes glowed silver before she shook her head, blinking rapidly. Everyone watched her now. “Do you hear that?”

“Hear what, Vanya?” Diego asked, a bite in his voice.

A few seconds later, someone opened fire downstairs. Allison jumped into Luther again, and he wrapped her close. Five leapt to his feet while Vanya grabbed at his arm, trying to keep him still. Klaus flinched, growing pale, and he curled in on himself, covering his ears. Diego’s knife jolted out of his hand and somehow ended up in the ceiling. 

As the rapid-fire stopped, a woman’s voice drifted out, sugary sweet. “Oh,  _ Hargreeves!  _ I’ve been wondering when I’d get a chance to see you all again. You’re wearing the cute little uniform, aren’t you?  _ Ah…  _ At least you’ll all be looking adorable when I finally,  _ finally  _ get to get rid of you.” 

“Who is that?” murmured Allison.

Diego glared at her, shoving Klaus off him and clambering to his feet. “Does it m-matter? W-we need to g-g-go and see if M-mom’s okay!” 

“News flash, genius,” Five spat. “If we run out there with no information, we won’t be finding Mom.”

“It’s one woman—”

Footsteps began to hammer through the house downstairs. Vanya paled, and she started counting beneath her breath.  _ Five, ten, fifteen, twenty, twenty-five, thirty…  _ She clapped a hand over her mouth. One more gunshot went off, and the next second, they all heard the grand chandelier crash to the ground. 

“Not one woman,” Diego corrected.

The intruders wanted something from the Umbrella Academy, but he didn’t recognize the voice. Dad enjoyed telling them about their youth; they barely went on any missions yet. They still managed to take a few drug rings and underground crime families. Still, he couldn’t name any of them with a vendetta big enough to attack their house. 

This time, they couldn’t leave it up to the police or the military. They wouldn’t be able to arrive in time. This mission would be in the name of self-preservation. Otherwise, that large, organized force would manage to stop the academy once and for all.

“We need a plan,” Five said.

Luther ignored the sting when his siblings turned to look at Five instead. They trusted him to be in charge before. Sure, he wasn’t the smartest of the family, but he spent the most time with Dad. Dad ensured he knew tactics. Five learnt them by reading books and watching documentaries; surely, Luther’s plans would come out on top.

“Diego and Klaus can go searching for Mom… And go free Ben from the basement.” Five gave them both pointed looks. “Since I can’t trust you to do anything else.”

“It’s our job to protect the innocent,” Diego bit out.

“Ben’s our brother,” added Klaus.

“Yeah, yeah, I don’t care. You weren’t going to listen to anyone. Diego, good luck with him. And if Allison can get to Dad’s office, she can go over the loudspeaker and convince the intruders all to get out.” He hesitated. 

Luther took his chance. “She can’t go alone. She needs one of us to protect her.”

“I’m capable of watching my own back,” Allison said hotly. 

Five rolled his eyes. “You’re going to have to be. Me and Luther will be the distractions. Hopefully, that’ll give you a chance to get there. And Vanya… You’re going to go up to the roof and wait for the rest of us. That’s our rendezvous point. If anyone gets hurt, or if anyone needs to rest, get up there.”

“Five, I can  _ fight—” _

“I know. That’s why you’re our last resort.” He paused, considering. “You and Ben.”

Allison grabbed Five’s arm, and when he glowered at her, she gave him a pointed look. Then, she swallowed hard.  _ “I heard a Rumor my last Rumor didn’t work anymore.” _

As Five staggered into Vanya, breathing hard, something crashed downstairs. It was…

He glanced over at Diego right as he figured it out. “Holy shit, is that Ben?”

“Guess you don’t have to free him from the basement. Hopefully, he’ll be smart enough to meet up with one of us.” 

Luther cleared his throat. “Be careful with him.”

“Dick—”

“We don’t know,” he said, deliberately slow, glaring at Klaus, “who we’ll meet. Ben or the Horror. So, be careful. It’s not fun being on the receiving end of those tentacles.”

“Are you talking about being thrown into the bookcase?” Five snorted. “If you were on the receiving end of the tentacles, you wouldn’t have been able to walk away.”

-

They called her the phantom of Ben’s mind. 

Nobody believed she existed, but none of them knew how to break it to him. The whole time, as Ben rattled off the description with messy and contorted syllables, they exchanged eye contact. Their brother, the one covered in blood and tears and sweat, saw someone nobody else did. Even Luther, the one tailing him, didn’t see her.

She couldn’t exist.

Now, Diego threw out an arm to keep Klaus from proceeding. He recognized her at the same moment, and Klaus muttered a curse. 

He described the woman as a rebel without a cause—young with messy and dark hair, black leather jacket, bright red shoes, and a mess of eyeliner. She wasn’t tall, but her confidence made her grow in size. As she leant back against the wall, tossing a dagger with the same ease he did, she offered a sharp grin. 

His skin crawled. “Klaus, go to… Go to Reno.”

“Reno?” Klaus echoed, furrowing his brow. 

The woman winked and strutted forward. The air started to pulse around them, warping and changing, and Diego gasped out. Something felt…  _ Off.  _ It took him a second to place the feeling. It was the same weightlessness he got as he guided a knife on an invisible wire. It was the same breathlessness he got as he fought and won against gravity. But… But he hadn’t thrown anything yet.

He gritted his teeth. “Reno. Don’t you remember having  _ been  _ to  _ Reno?” _

“Been to Reno—” Klaus’s mouth snapped shut.  _ Benerino.  _ He glanced towards the basement and shook his head. Diego motioned down the hallway instead. He knew his brother couldn’t make it all the way to the basement; he’d be able to get to Ben’s room, though. Klaus wouldn’t be able to fight, so he needed to hide. Ben’s room was the only one with a lock on it.

After all, they took precautions to make sure the Horror couldn’t get out.

Klaus started sprinting, and the woman broke out laughing. “Do you really think there’s anywhere in this house you could hide? We studied this place; I know it better than the back of my own hand.”

“It doesn’t matter. You wouldn’t be able to get that far.” Diego slid forward, blocking the view of his retreating back. Reaching beneath his jacket, he felt around in the holsters. They mocked him for buying one of these vests. They wouldn’t be laughing anymore.

She rolled her eyes. “Do you really think you’re going to beat me in a fight, kiddo?”

He shrugged. “How hard can it be?”

“Oh, that’s offensive.” She snorted before settling into a fighting stance. “This is going to be fun.”

She charged forward. Diego whipped the knife free of his jacket, chucking it forward. He felt out its path as it spiraled towards her. The woman skidded a stop, throwing out her arms. She ducked, putting her head in its path instead. He cursed and jerked it down; he didn’t want to kill anyone.

She winked and disappeared in a cloud of blue.

Diego gaped right as something slammed into his back. 

He fell forward, but he twisted around. Popping back to his feet, he leapt into a kick. It connected with her jaw. She gasped before darting forward. They circled around each other, landing cheap shots and heavy blows. He threw out a punch; she grabbed his wrist and managed to send him over her shoulder.

He collided hard with the ground, but he swept out his legs. He caught her ankle and almost took her down. She hopped, balancing, before grinning. He rolled just in time to avoid getting kicked in the head. He twisted as he got up again, slamming his knee against her stomach. As she punched him in the jaw, he managed to grab her and pull her into a chokehold, ignoring his own spluttering breaths.

She laughed before disappearing again.

Diego growled. “How the hell are you doing that?”

He practiced with Five before, though. He backed up until his back hit the wall, one less side to defend, and he pulled out a fistful of knives. When she teleported in front of him, he slashed outwards, catching her fist right as she aimed for his face. She hissed, backing up and shaking out her hand. The blood droplets flicked through the air, some landing on his blades. 

He tossed three knives straight up as she teleported again, sending them in any direction she could appear. As she found her footing, she cursed as one spiraled towards her. She teleported again.

_ Pop! _

She sat on the railing, cradling her fist. 

He broke the wooden banister, inches away from where her foot used to be.

_ Pop! _

She leant back against the window, grinning.

He shattered the glass.

_ Pop! _

She stood within inches of him, and he gave up on the weapons. They collided in their original paths, horrible cracking, but he ignored it. He punched her, but she reworked her jaw and leapt against the wall. As she twisted mid-air, her boot caught him in the throat. 

He gagged and stumbled backwards, clutching at his throat.  _ No, he didn’t need to breathe. He needed to man up.  _ Besides, he knew how to win a fistfight. He’d always argue he knew how to fight best out of his siblings. Luther relied too much on brute force, and Allison didn’t bother practicing. 

She stomped over to the banister, yanking the knife out. Her eyes flashed silver for a split second before she offered a toothy grin. With practiced ease, she sent it flying towards him. The vibrations rattled through his skin,  _ wrongwrongwrong.  _ Those were  _ his  _ knives; how did she control? How did she turn them against him? How did she…?

It didn’t matter.

He could win this.

He chose where they travelled; he made the invisible strings they danced upon. Diego closed his eyes and envisioned the silver paths branching out in the empty space before him. If he found the right one, he could redirect it. It was…  _ This  _ was just like anything else he threw. He just needed to pull it where he wanted it to go.

The energy fought against him as he tugged on it, imagining a neat spin and then catapulting back where it came. Vanya always called him relentless, and Five always called him stubborn. They never meant it as a compliment, but it meant one thing.

He didn’t back down from a challenge. 

His eyes shot open when the woman yelped, the knife grazing her cheek before falling to the lower floors. Diego let it go, unwilling to allow something else to be used against him. Besides, he kept twenty-nine knives on him; he lost the thirtieth to Klaus on some stupid bet. 

Diego wobbled, nose starting to bleed, but he grinned. “Didn’t you hear? These are  _ my  _ powers.”

“You shouldn’t be able to do that,” she growled, feeling at the cut. “Not yet.”

He laughed. “You sound like my dad. He’s an asshole.”

“Well, he’d get along famously with my mother.” She reached down and tugged a dagger out of the holster on her calf. That one… That one would pack a greater punch than any of Diego’s. By the time she finished collecting all her weapons, she held four in her hands.

Diego raised an eyebrow. “Woman after my own heart.”

“I’m a bit old for you, sweetheart.” And she flicked them all towards him. This time, as the vibrations shook through them, she kept a guiding hand on it. He found the paths anyway and started pulling.

The knives suspended in the air between them, being pulled  _ forward-backwards-forward-backwards  _ by the two of them.

For the first time, he understood why Five always slept for hours after individual training. Dark spots collected across his vision as the red hot heat continued to press against his face. His nose bled harder, mixing with the forming sweat. His powers used to be comfortable; controlling objects he didn’t throw didn’t feel as cozy.

He wished he hadn’t sent Klaus away; he didn’t know how long he’d last in a one-on-one. Maybe some friendly ghost would go find his brother for him. 

He blinked, and suddenly, she was in front of him. He swerved away from her. As they circled each other, desperate but relentless, they struggled to find an opening. Every lunge caused the other to retreat. Every blow got redirected. The knives quivered next to them, desperate to start moving again. But, one by one by one by one, they all pointed at Diego instead. 

She slammed her elbow into his already bleeding nose before pinning him up against the wall. As his vision spotted over, he clawed at her arm. She huffed. “You don’t quit, kid, but I’ve been training a lot longer than you. You might’ve caught me by surprise, but I’m going to win this fight.”

“I’m not—”

“Your little morals will always keep you from getting far in life. You need to learn how to play dirty.” Her eyes flashed silver again.

He laughed anyway. “Whose powers are you going to use on me? Ben’s?”

“Mm, nah. My mom said I needed to make sure none of you little assholes remembered this, but I’m not exactly a fan of killing children.” She shrugged, manic energy starting to build in her eyes. “There are other ways to make sure people don’t talk again. Cut out their tongues, take them with you, break their minds…”

“Good luck,” he spat.

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, don’t worry. It won’t take much.  _ I heard a Rumor you remembered Detective Eudora Patch.” _

He barely felt her throwing him to the ground. He barely felt her leather boot settling on his throat. He barely felt the oxygen draining out of him. He barely heard her shouting out to Klaus. 

Because he  _ remembered Eudora. _

_ (He remembered her smile first.  _

_ She smiled with ease; she gave them out for free. It caught his attention on the very first day of the academy, so vibrant and unbroken. She spoke with one of the other officers, and when she laughed, he thought his heart might explode. He stumbled up to her like a moth drawn to her light. _

_ He fumbled his words, stuttering. He was so, so nervous. He never thought he’d be here; he never thought he’d meet someone as beautiful and alive as her. He grew up alone. He didn’t have dates or prom or homecoming or whatever the hell the average teenager had. He had… Allison and Vanya, and he wasn’t like Luther. _

_ Patch simply raised an eyebrow at him, laughing. _

_ And God, her laugh could put any choir to shame.) _

His nose bled harder.

_ (They never dated, not officially. Neither of them knew what relationships entailed, and both of them insisted they didn’t have time. He didn’t know why he never asked her out. Maybe it was because he was so comfortable; if he would’ve proposed, it would’ve made just as much sense as dating. _

_ They went to Griddy’s almost every morning for coffee. Sometimes, they bought doughnuts too. Some of the older waitresses recognized him from the Umbrella Academy, but they all pretended they didn’t know. Eudora once told him she kept a magazine with him on the front cover in her childhood bedroom… She always knew he was Number Two. _

_ He remembered smearing frosting on her nose from the doughnut, and she snorted. _

_ He remembered her ‘spilling’ syrup on his hand. _

_ He remembered kissing her by the dumpster behind the building, tangling his hair in her carefully done hair.) _

Diego’s body wouldn’t stop twitching.

_ (For ten years, they danced around each other. People assumed they broke up when he left—got kicked out of—the police academy, but how do you break up when you never date? She didn’t have time, she would tell him, to seriously date. But she’d offer for him to go to the club with her. And he didn’t trust anyone, he would tell her, to date them. But he’d slip her the times of his most prominent fights, and she’d hang out in the back. _

_ Once, they talked about moving in.  _

_ They would’ve if Diego stopped his vigilante business. Instead, though, she would leave her window unlocked, and sometimes, he’d sneak in. _

_ Sometimes, he left blood on her sheets. _

_ Sometimes, they left something else on her sheets.) _

Diego passed out.

_ (And then, the apocalypse stole her away from him.) _

-

For Switzerland being the country of neutrality, it produced very angry men. As Allison skidded around the corner, lunging for one of the guest bedrooms, she swore she’d never visit that country. No matter how majestic mountains were, she wouldn’t be able to get these two out of her head. Right now, only one of them chased her. The other left in search of…  _ Someone.  _ They spoke only in Swedish, so she couldn’t figure it out.

_ “I heard a Rumor—” _

The Swede responded by firing a shot into the air again. At least she exhausted his bullets, but she scowled. He figured out her Rumors only worked if they could be  _ heard.  _ As long as he kept shooting his gun every time she spoke, she would have to fight the old-fashioned way. 

Allison would love to fight the old-fashioned way once he dropped the gun. Right now, he used it with enough skill she suspected he might be able to shoot her before she could even scream. She glanced around the bedroom, frantic. Where could she hide without him noticing? She didn’t know this wing of the house as well. 

This… Might be the worst decision she’d make. Allison ducked against the wall and held her breath, easing the door shut. As she waited, she heard his footsteps get louder and louder. He’d be able to figure out where she hid with ease—

His machine gun turned the door to dust. She watched in mute horror as the window shattered and the walls seemed to sway from the force. Plaster flaked off the walls like snow; she bit back the scream. Then, he kicked the door, and it swung inwards, going straight towards her.

She leapt out right before the door hit her, lunging at him. Her weight made him stumble back, and she grabbed straight for the gun. As she tried to jerk it free, she threw all of her weight back again. His elbow went flying upwards, slamming into her jaw.

She ignored it. With one hand still wrapped around the gun, she reached up and tried to position her fingers right. Then, she stabbed at his eyes. He howled; he managed to close one in time. As he stumbled backwards, she tried to wiggle it free. His grip hadn’t loosened at all, though, and she spat out a curse.

_ “I heard a Rumor—” _

The gunshot ripped through the air.

The pain followed a second later. Her thigh lit up, hotter and hotter. As the heat festered, blood pooling and running down her leg, she gasped and tightened her grip to keep from falling over. Then, she stabbed at his face again. She couldn’t… She couldn’t think about how much standing up hurt right now.

Lifting her injured leg, she kneed him straight in the groin. As her knee collided, his legs shook. Before he could recover, she lunged forward, pressing all of her weight into the gun. The barrel of the gun slammed into his face, hard enough something  _ cracked,  _ and she clawed one last time at his eyes.

Before he could recover, she managed to force out the words. Her throat tasted like copper.  _ “I heard a Rumor—” _

He tried to howl over her.

She gritted her teeth and screamed louder.  _ “I heard a Rumor you forgot about my family and got the hell out of my house!” _

The silver glowed in the man’s eyes before he stumbled back and away from her. Without him there, she toppled over. She barely managed to grab at the bed to keep from hitting the ground. Twisting around, she eased down to the ground as the man continued to stomp away. “Wait… Wait.  _ I heard a Rumor you gave me the gun.” _

He paused in the doorway before coming back, passing over the gun without a second’s hesitation. She took a shaky breath and lifted it up. At least this way, she felt less vulnerable. She trained it on his back until he disappeared out of view. 

Then, placing the gun next to her as gently as she could afford, she pressed both hands against the wound until her vision blacked out. The blood oozed out between her fingers, and she watched with morbid fascination. It bubbled out and over, thick and goopy and never-ending. Allison couldn’t remember the last time she got injured on a mission; her Rumors always managed to protect her.

She took a deep breath before fumbling behind her, snatching up one of the pillows. As it hit the ground next to her, she flinched before wiggling it free of the pillowcase. She could… She could wrap this around the wound; she remembered the basics of first aid. For the most part, though, they focused on combat training as a group.

She rode up her skirt and almost puked when she saw the angry, oozing wound. As cautiously as she could, she lifted her leg… It didn’t go all the way through. Shit. She’d need to find Mom as soon as possible. Then again, she’d have to assume her mother hadn’t been reduced to nothing but scrap metal and wires.

Allison tried not to think about it as she wrapped up the injury. Why couldn’t she be  _ any other  _ sibling? If she was Luther, no bullet would be able to stop her. If she was Diego, she’d never be defenseless. If she was Klaus, nobody would put her in the line of fire, not alone. If she was Five, she’d be able to teleport somewhere safer. If she was Ben, she’d be able to rip apart anyone who threatened her. And if she was Vanya, she’d be up on the roof, completely fine.

Instead, she was just herself… Bleeding out in a guest room with nothing but a gun she barely knew how to use and words she didn’t know would come out right. She reached up at her throat. It felt… Sticky, all of a sudden. Wrong. Like someone sliced it open and abandoned her there, all alone.

Allison choked.

_ “Have you checked this one?”  _ someone shouted, the shadow clustering right beneath the door. It got nearer and nearer, blocking out the light beyond. She tried to make herself smaller. She took a deep breath and grabbed the gun, leveling it at the door. 

They kicked open the door, and she forgot how to pull a trigger with another gun pointed at her forehead.

Three things happened too fast for Allison to comprehend. 

One: a tentacle lunged out behind the man, wrapping around his waist and jerking him upwards. The man let out a blood-curdling scream as he crashed into the ceiling. Plaster cracked and fell down where he once stood. 

Two: a gunshot fired off. Allison flinched hard, and she ended up dropping the gun right back on her lap. When it landed on the already bloodied pillowcase, she lost grasp on reality for a second.

Three: blood started to shower down from the hole in the ceiling. It oozed down and splattered all over her. 

Allison curled tighter, wanting to scream but her words lodged in her throat. She reached up, sweeping her fingers through the man’s new blood. The tentacle kept throwing him around, slamming him against the ceiling and the ground, again and again. She closed her eyes and wrapped herself in a hug, listening as his screams trickled off.

Finally, the tentacles released the bloodied corpse. As his head rolled, his lifeless eyes facing her, she swallowed hard and resisted the bile crawling up her throat. As she stumbled upwards, she tried to glance into the hallway. “Ben…? It’s… How did you get out of the basement?”

A silence hung, and she cringed at her words.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m glad you got out, and I’m glad you’re safe. But… But it’s okay. You can stop now.” She limped forward and almost pitched into the carpet. As she leant hard against the wall, she took a deep breath. 

When she opened her eyes again, when the world stopped spinning, she caught sight of her baby brother. 

Ben leant back against the banister, eyes screwed shut. Blood trickled from his nose, bright red against his painfully pale skin, and he didn’t even attempt to wipe any of it away. Sweat gathered in his hairline, sticking it up in every direction, and all of those new clothes were soaked with blood. That leather jacket and those dark jeans, that outfit he looked so  _ alive  _ in, wouldn’t be able to be washed. The Horror hesitated in the air around him as he took deep, stuttering breaths.

“Are you okay?” She took a step forward.

Ben’s eyes fluttered open before he ducked his head. His words came out weak and exhausted.  _ “Brothers…?” _

“Oh… Oh! They’re safe. We… You’re okay. We agreed to meet up on the roof...” Why did he look so drained? How much did breaking out of the basement take from him? As she took another step, she winced as she put too much weight on the bad leg. Her eyes caught on his broken foot, and she debated asking if  _ he  _ needed help walking. 

Instead, she took another step forward. When the tentacles twitched in the air, she squeaked despite herself. Ben peeked up at her, and his eyes looked cloudy… Oh. She didn’t want him to cry. “Sorry… Sorry. I’m sorry.”

“You’re okay. Why don’t we just… Why don’t we just put away the Horror, okay?”

_ “Can’t.”  _ He offered a shaky smile. Blood stained his teeth, and she gasped. Just like that, he recoiled and shut his mouth again. Didn’t… Didn’t Diego say something about Ben having broken ribs? It would make sense; every breath wheezed in and out of him. Bloody spittle collected on his lips.

“No, you can put the Horror away.” She paused, cringing at how intense her voice came out. She… She didn’t trust the Horror. It ripped people apart with no remorse. It never minded blood or bones or anything gory. Her baby brother, her sweetest and softest brother, had a monster; as long as he knew how to pack it away, she could ignore that. “Ben, I didn’t mean it… Just… Please?”

When he spoke again, it came out careful and measured. It rasped in the back of his throat, darker and grittier than she thought he was capable of… Maybe it came from the blood. “I gotta…  _ Protect. Defend.” _

“Ben, you’re good.” 

He blinked, shaking his head, before stumbling back against the banister. He whined, his hands flickering up to cradle the base of the tentacles, and his eyes shuttered shut one more time. Ben shuddered before going still. Her heart went out to him, but there was an easy solution here.

She… This wasn’t bad. No matter what her siblings said, it wasn’t bad to use her powers. There must be a reason she had them after all. Besides, this was… For the greater good. This would help Ben in the long run. If he pulled in the Horror, he’d get a chance to catch his breath. And if she gauged him to be mentally and physically sound, she’d allow him to pull out the Horror again.

_ “I heard a Rumor—”  _

Ben’s eyes flashed, and a tentacle swooped towards her. She cut out with a loud scream, and her ankle hit the dead body. She fell backwards, right on top, and she screamed even louder as his blood sunk into her skirt, her top, her skin. Allison lunged forward, desperate to get out of the body cavity, and she sprawled on the ground. The bullet wound slammed against the wooden floor, and her vision went bright red.

When it cleared up, she was sobbing, and Ben stared down at her.  _ “Klaus… Where…?” _

“He went looking for you—”

Gunshots fired off downstairs, and she flinched. Ben straightened though, head cocking in that direction. “Gotta protect…”

“Ben—”

But her brother was already off and running.

-

“Aren’t you going to go save your brother?” The ghost knelt down in front of Klaus. He reached out, hands hovering over Klaus’s shoulders. His voice remained soft but persistent. Klaus clamped his hands tighter over his ears, shaking his head over and over again. He couldn’t… He didn’t want to get up.

The gunshots made him curl tighter and tighter.

Dave hesitated before trying for a smile. “Klaus, Diego  _ needs  _ you.”

“Nobody needs me,” he choked out. He pulled his knees to his chest as he hid beneath Ben’s bed. Trembling, Klaus pressed his cheek against the cold floor, trying to stop the tears from escaping. 

He laid down, scooting forward, as he eased next to Klaus. “So many people would disagree with that one, sweetheart. You have so many people in your life. What about Ben? What about Diego?”

“They can… They can fend for themselves. I can’t even control my powers.” Because, just beyond Dave’s shoulder, all clustered around the bed, the other ghosts watched and studied him like scientists watching over an experiment. They were new… He didn’t recognize them. They all wore suits, but they all met gruesome ends. A gaping hole took up the middle of one, and another lacked most of their limbs. All of them looked like they bathed in blood, and Klaus  _ knew  _ what that meant.

The Horror usually did a good job of making sure no ghosts followed Ben around. It stripped down its victims until nothing remained. Sometimes, it suspended them in its own dimension. 

These, right now, died in sloppy and horrible ways; he didn’t want to think about what that meant for Ben.

Dave glanced at the other ghosts with a grimace before shifting forward, protectively. “You’re young. You can learn how to control them.”

“I can… I can get really fucking high?” He wished he hid in his own room. What good did the lock do for him? His room held his pills and his drinks and everything he needed. Ben didn’t even have painkillers. Somehow, Reggie thought  _ that’d  _ teach his brother. 

He sighed, reaching for him again. “That’s not the answer, sweet—”

_ “Stop. Stop  _ calling me that. You don’t even know me,” he moaned. Because if Dave knew Klaus,  _ really  _ knew him, he’d be running in the opposite direction. He didn’t know why this ghost refused to leave him; he didn’t know any Vietnam soldier in real life. Yet, he looked at Klaus with such tenderness, such love...

All Klaus did was ruin everything. He broke people’s trust, and nobody took him seriously. He broke every relationship he ever got his hands on.

Dave smiled at him, uncompromising. “No, I don’t know this you. But I’ve learnt how amazing it is that you’ll grow up to be one of the kindest men I’ve ever met. And I know you’re brave, no matter what you try and tell yourself.”

“I’ll grow up to be one of the kindest men? You couldn’t have known me in the future.” He shook his head. “You’re insane. Or I’m insane.”

“You’ve met insane ghosts. Do I seem like one?”

“That’s not… That’s not the point.” Klaus swallowed hard and turned his back to Dave, ignoring the tears starting to streak down his face. “Dave, I can’t do this. I’ll just get in the way. I’ll make things worse.”

“They need your help. And, hey, once you rescue them, they can protect you, okay? They just need one moment of bravery.” Dave eased back and offered his hand. Klaus stared at it for a long moment. If he reached for it right now, he’d pass through. He wouldn’t be able to help Klaus up; every move from here on out came from Klaus and Klaus alone. 

This next step, he needed to do by himself.

Klaus took a deep breath. Closing his eyes, he eased out from underneath the bed, ignoring the chill in the room. One of the ghosts started to rattle something off—a hit list? A list of the bones in the human body? Klaus held up a hand. “Okay, okay… Guys… What if we acted a little less like a horror movie and more…  _ Casper,  _ you know?”

All of the recently deceased glared at him, and he resisted the urge to lunge back underneath. Or find a bottle of vodka and start chugging until he saw the bottom. 

“Don’t look at them. Look at me,” Dave whispered.

“You say that like it’s easy.” He sniffled.

His smile never faded. Instead, he puffed out his chest and glanced around at the ghosts. “We can take them if we need to. You have more friends here than you’d think. What about our whole platoon?”

“Our whole what?” Klaus shuffled forward a step. He could do this; one step at a time, he’d get to Diego. Dave’s face twisted as he debated how to phrase it. Downstairs, someone  _ screamed;  _ it sounded like Five. He flinched. “I want to go back. I can’t… I can’t do this, Dave. I’m not this person you think I am.”

“Everyone believes in you. You need to have more faith.” He paused at the corner before nodding towards something. Klaus’s stomach tossed. He didn’t want to see how badly Diego lost the fight. “Your siblings need you right now. You need to be the hero we all know you’re capable of being.”

He peeked around the corner, and his breath stuttered out. 

Diego didn’t  _ move.  _ The woman, Ben’s phantom, make-believe woman, pressed her red, red boots against his throat. It’d bruise. He’d get an ugly, boot-shaped bruise on his throat. But his brother didn’t even try to free himself. Instead, he stared up at the ceiling without blinking. He looked like he might be...

_ No, no,  _ he couldn’t lose any of his siblings. Not again. 

Klaus couldn’t breathe.

He must’ve made a noise because the woman’s head snapped towards him. She snorted before grinning… Like a lion about to devour an antelope. “I thought you were going to avoid me forever. Your brother isn’t much fun to play with.”

She took a step forward, leaving Diego behind. His brother took in a wheezing breath, constricted and raw and uncontrolled. He still stared up at the ceiling, a certain kind of emptiness residing there.

Klaus wanted to shout at him, he wanted to shake him, but instead, he swallowed his pride and offered his most dazzling smile. “Well, yeah, that’s because you played with  _ Diego.  _ He’s a bit of a buzzkill.”

“Oh? So you’re going to be more fun? Here, I’ll raise the stakes. I won’t even use your powers.”

As she approached, he kept shuffling backwards. He glanced around, trying to gauge where he could run away and hide. Yet, they were at the top of the stairs. Unless he wanted to jump the balcony or out the window, he’d have to stand his ground. He couldn’t  _ do  _ that. “You know, we don’t need to do this… Fighting thing. You can just back off, and I can walk down this hallway, and nobody needs to get hurt. No police report or anything! Oh, I’ll even show you the most expensive stuff in this house! Doesn’t that sound nice?”

“Mm, I don’t think so.” She was  _ so close  _ now as Klaus cowered against the wall. He couldn’t move back any further unless he started sprinting… Which he just might. 

Dave chanted in his ear.  _ “Stand your ground, be fearless, don’t let her psych you out.” _

“What am I supposed to fight her with?” he hissed at him. “My ghost mojo?”

Then, the woman was trying to press him against the wall. He panicked and flailed out, somehow managing to connect with her face. As she staggered backwards, he darted, trying to run towards the staircase. Maybe he’d be able to find Ben in the basement! Maybe he’d be able to—

A knife sliced through the air, skimming his neck. He yelped as the air shifted there, flipping around and throwing up his hands in surrender. 

“You little shit.” She pulled out another blade, ready to chuck it if he moved. He didn’t. He watched her approach, and when she grabbed him by his collar, he didn’t move. When she slammed him back against the wall, hard enough stars exploded across his vision, he didn’t move. She did it again, and thick blood started spurting down his forehead. “You’re making this way too easy, kid. I didn’t even need to incapacitate you. You did that to yourself.”

“What did you do to Diego?” Klaus asked, glancing at Dave. People started to swim in focus behind him, people he didn’t quite recognize. Concussions tended to blur the line between reality and fantasy. He probably had one of those. 

“The same thing,” she hissed in his ear, “I intend to do with you. And then, I’ll do it, one by one, to each of your siblings beside Five. So Five will be left with a broken family, just like he did to me.  _ I heard a Rumor—” _

__ “Don’t let her do anything!” Dave shouted. “Let me… Let  _ us  _ have this! Just summon the old platoon!”

“You think Allie’s powers are better than mine?” he cried, loud enough to cut both of them off. He took a deep breath before slamming his head back against her. Her grip loosened, so he did it again. While his head ached from every direction, he dug his elbow into her ribs and wiggled free. Taking the chance, he darted from under her arm and held out both hands as she laughed, about to lunge for him. “You haven’t seen anything yet then.”

“The  _ drug addict  _ has the best powers.”

“Well, I resent that.” He winked at her, half his vision coated with blood anyway. “‘Sides, lady, I’m sober right now.”

His hands glowed bright blue, and Dave materialized between them. She startled at the sight of him. “What the  _ fuck?” _

Klaus gritted his teeth and thought about a platoon—a distant memory kept swimming up at him. Barren plains. Gunfire. Blood. A sickening taste of ash which refused to leave him alone. That, he could only imagine, represented war. 

One by one, more soldiers began to appear behind Dave. They all wore the same uniform in varying states of disarray. Some of them glanced back at Klaus and offered him broad smiles. Others gave him a courteous nod. He stared back at him, confused, before he flicked his hand forward.

They charged at the woman. 

-

Five clung to Luther as they ran through the ruined house. He glanced around, trying to take in as much information as possible. Books littered the floor, and one of the deer heads had been ripped off and now impaled one of the women on their dining room table. She must be dead. They left blood and dust and plaster everywhere; a lot of corpses remained.

Vanya said thirty people entered the academy. They tried to take on about half of them, and while Five managed to wrestle all of their firearms away, they were still highly trained. They fought like people who dedicated their lives to learning combat… They fought like older versions of the Umbrella Academy should they continue on this path.

Somehow, though, they didn’t appear to have a vendetta against the Umbrella Academy. Most of the agents appeared to have a special focus on Five. And some of them kept calling out descriptions, looking for someone who resembled Ben. What those two in specific did to upset an entire organization wasn’t clear to Five.

It  _ needed  _ to be clear to Five.

_ (They worked for the Commission; they worked for the Handler. These were the agents loyal only to her. She must’ve defied the Board of Directors, and somehow, she created a splinter group in the organization. Only she would create a civil war in order to stage an outrageous strike on the Hargreeves.) _

“Are you still awake back there?” Luther panted as they lumbered into the room holding Dad’s bar. Underneath them, Five heard the telltale cracking of glass. “You haven’t said anything in awhile.”

“I try not to talk to lower life forms,” Five slurred. “You’re still not forgiven.” 

“Okay.” His laugh rumbled through his body, and Five wanted to beat the shit out of his brother. Just because they ended up like this didn’t mean Five would look past all his past mistakes. 

He managed to teleport fast and frequent enough to steal the guns away from the agents. Then, he dumped them into the basement chamber which once held Ben; it no longer held Ben. Somehow, his brother managed to throw the heavy, steel door all the way to the staircase with only five dents in it. 

Then, he teleported back to Luther and passed out. He held his brother now, arms wrapped tight around his neck and legs hooked about his hips. If he walked, he’d end up losing consciousness again. At least this way, they could pretend Luther had any semblance of a brain cell. 

“Well,  _ this  _ is so cute.”

He knew that voice.

Five darted upright, startling Luther, as a woman emerged from behind the bar. She had been crouching there before; now, she held a wine glass with something he presumed  _ wasn’t  _ wine. She swirled it around in the cup as she studied the two of them.

How did he know her? She dressed like she came straight from a period piece; the puffy Victorian dress, complete with outrageous heels and a little hat, didn’t fit in here. If he squinted, he thought he could make out a bullet wound in her temple. And, somehow, he felt a twinge of satisfaction. She seemed like the kind of woman who deserved to be shot in the head.

She winked at him. “I’m enjoying this, Five, truly I am. But aren’t you tired of pretending?”

“I don’t know who the fuck you are,” he spat out. 

Luther eased backwards a step. “Look, we don’t want any unnecessary bloodshed. This whole thing has been blown-out of proportion. Whatever the Umbrella Academy has done to you… We can find a way to rectify it.”

“Oh? Your brother got an agent to turn rogue and shoot me in the head. That same agent is now, mysteriously, missing. Not to mention the explosives he rigged up at headquarters, and he frequently stole briefcases.” She rattled them off with such ease before taking a long sip of her drink.

His brother hesitated. “I… Don’t think he did any of that. Is it possible you have the wrong person?”

“Nope! I have the right person. Or should I say… I  _ will  _ have the right person?” When she smiled, it came across unhinged. He didn’t want his brother in the same room as this woman.  _ He  _ didn’t want to be in the same room as this woman. A headache started to form, but he shoved it away. He didn’t have time to unpack all of this.

“We need to get to Ben and Vanya,” he murmured to Luther, too quiet for the woman to hear.

Luther nodded. 

The woman cocked her head. “Oh, surely, you’re not abandoning me now! We barely got the chance to talk! It would’ve been so adorable to see you how you were growing up. You always said you weren’t close to any of your siblings, but I suppose I shouldn’t be shocked you were lying all along.”

Five gathered up his slipping powers as a response. They struggled against him, but he gritted his teeth and pushed harder. The blue light flared up in front of their faces. The woman’s eyes widened, and she suddenly ducked behind the bar to pull out a… A gun. 

And Luther jumped. “I thought you said you couldn’t teleport!”

“I’m hitting a wall,” Five growled out as he pushed his limits. She leveled it at them and right as she squeezed the trigger… 

They  _ shattered  _ through his portal. The world fractured all around them, shades of bright, bright blue, and Five curled in on himself. His surroundings pieced themselves back together, threads pulling the gaps in his vision back together. When they landed, Luther stumbled and fell to his knees. Five pitched over his shoulder and skidded across the floor, bumping into something solid.

He kicked out as he tried to get back to Luther. With ease, his attacker clamped down on his shoulders and caught his fists.  _ “Five?” _

He hesitated before squinting up. “Klaus?”

His brother beamed down at him. A bruise started to form on his forehead, and blood clumped in his hairline, oozing downwards. As he swayed on top of Five, he took note of his blown out pupils. “Hi! Where did you come from? Where are you going?”

“Are you high?” Five muttered as he pushed Klaus off.

He giggled. “I don’t think so! The ghosts aren’t leaving me alone… Did you know I’m a veteran? Apparently, I’m a veteran! Also, Dave says hi, and Dave says I should get my head checked out because I’m bleeding a lot.”

“Klaus, where’s Diego?” interrupted Luther.

He looked confused for a second before gasping. He nodded off to the side and ended up falling over. “Di’s right there!”

Five groaned as he sat upright, stopping as he caught sight of Diego. Klaus obviously dropped him, which… Couldn’t be shocking in his current state. His brother laid there, unconscious, a darkening bruise spreading across his throat. His nose was prominently broken, swelling to three times its size… Five swiped a hand through his own bloody nose. He knew the sign of overexerting power. How it ended up broken, though, was outside of that. “The fuck?”

“Ben’s phantom woman got him! He really knows how to pick them!” Klaus offered hysterically.

“Klaus…” Luther murmured. “Stop talking.”

Five followed his gaze to the end of the hallway before groaning. “I  _ forgot  _ about this fucker.”

“I like the lack of filter,” Klaus commented as Five yanked him upright. He leant against his brother, closing his eyes to steady himself. “You should cuss more often.”

One of the Swedes stood there, studying the four of them. He held a clean, shining axe. He must not have seen combat yet… Maybe they snuck in when Five passed out. Judging by how straight he stood, how savage his smile was… He wouldn’t be holding back. 

Their threat echoed in his mind.  _ An eye for an eye. _

“They want Ben,” he murmured to Klaus. “Do we know where Ben is?”

“The basement?”

Before Five could answer, the Swede threw his axe right at Five’s head. He swore as he dove backwards. It impaled the space, splintering through the wood. He couldn’t control his limbs well enough to move, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to stand up during this fight. Not without help. He… His powers flickered once, blue weaving between his fingers, before fading away completely.

Klaus tottered towards the axe, trying to tug it out, and he landed on his ass. “Lulu, can you grab this?”

“I’m a little busy!” Luther snapped as he fought with the Swede. The man didn’t react to any of the punches. As Luther struck at his face, his neck, his stomach, he didn’t move. Instead, he just kept fighting back, harder. 

They fought like boxers. 

But as Luther kept needing to stagger backwards from the blow, rubbing at his jaw, the man was relentless. He’d tear Luther apart. He landed his blows, again and again, and Klaus made a wounded noise.

Then, he sprinted, almost tripping the whole time, and leapt on the Swede’s back.

Five cursed as he crawled towards Diego, hopefully able to protect  _ that  _ brother. Luther and Klaus would have to get this one all on their own.

Klaus wrapped his arms around the Swede’s neck, babbling something, while Luther sprinted forward, landing a blow in his stomach. The Swede took a hesitant step backwards. Luther punched him again, and when the Swede spat, blood came flying. 

Then, he backed into the wall, and they all heard the  _ crack.  _ Klaus’s eyes clouded over as he lost his grip, falling to the ground. A streak of blood went with him, staining the wallpaper. He moved once, weakly, before staring down at his lap instead.

Luther stared in horror, and the Swede punched him in the gut. He slammed his fists on top of Luther’s back, sending him sprawling to the ground. 

Five wanted to—

The wood splintered over their heads, interrupting the fight.

The next second, a tentacle tore through it, grabbing hold of the Swede and tossing him over the balcony with ease. Klaus let out a shaky laugh as a dull thud filled the air. “B-b’n!”

“Is it Ben?” he mumbled to the unconscious Diego. Because the Horror tossed the Swede aside without any hesitation. It lacked any of the same restraint he usually kept the monster under. It almost… It seemed too swift, too rapid of a death for Ben to allow. 

But… 

They didn’t have any other choice.

-

The cement exploded next to her, and Vanya scrambled backwards. The heavy material fell down, exposing a gaping hole. She stared at it, trying to summon her powers. They refused to come back to her, though. She didn’t  _ control  _ them. 

As her heart pounded in her throat, the tentacles appeared, yanking her siblings up. With each one who appeared, she realized something she never thought possible. 

They were  _ losing  _ this battle.

She stumbled to Five the second she saw him. He struggled to sit upright, and as she dove towards him, she helped him up the rest of the way. He offered a grateful smile, slumping and resting his head on her shoulder. “What’s happening, Five?” 

“There’s too many of them,” he mumbled, his voice sounding dampened by cotton. He reached up and dabbed at his bloody nose. Spreading his hand in front of them, the sunlight caught the crimson and sent fractals of it across the roof. “I… I don’t think I have any jumps left. I… I need a second to catch my breath.”

“I think everyone overexerted their powers,” she whispered back. Luther helped prop Diego up, and while he didn’t move, his nose kept dripping blood. Ben swayed on his feet, tentacles still primed for attack overhead, and when Klaus stumbled up to him, he swiped at the blood there with surprising tenderness. “We need this fight to be done. It’s… It’s almost over, right?”

“It’s because we’re going to lose this.” Five’s breath puffed on her neck, and his eyes lost some of their focus. As his eyelids drooped shut, she nudged him. He startled back awake. “I’ve got this. Gimme a second.”

“You can have a second.” She tried to catch Ben’s eye. She didn’t remember seeing the Horror so… Prominent before. Most of the time, even when Dad had her practice with him, he’d try and draw it back within he got the chance. It took her a few seconds to work up her courage to ask. “Is… Is Ben okay?”

“Hell if I know.” Now, his voice started to fade as he started to lose his battle against falling asleep. 

She laughed lightly. “I’ll wake you up. You can rest.”

“I don’t need to rest,” he snapped as he lost his battle on keeping his eyes open.

“I know,” she said.

Whatever he said next got lost to incoherent mumbling. 

Allison cleared her throat. She used Luther to stand upright. A white rag clung to her thigh, heavy with blood, and she kept getting paler and paler. “Klaus, what’s going on with Ben? Because I don’t get it. Do we… Trust him?”

“I think,” Klaus said, his words almost incoherent, “it’s not Benny. Is it?”

Ben didn’t respond, and the Horror remained poised to strike.

He tugged on his arm, and Ben stared at him, tired. Vanya gasped; he looked so  _ exhausted.  _ She wanted to wrap him up in a hug and give him a chance to rest… Just like Five. “Benny, come on back to us.”

_ “No.”  _ His words came out mangled and wrong, two voices speaking through one. Ben took a wobbly, shaky step forward, his left foot suspended in the air. It was swollen beneath the wrapping now, and she could make out the discoloring.  _ “No. Protect.” _

“We can protect ourselves, Ben,” Luther said warily as if he spoke to an insolent child. “You’re making things worse—”

“Shut  _ up.”  _ Klaus whirled around and fell backwards. A tentacle wrapped around him, helping him back upright, and he patted the tentacle. “That’s mean!”

“I—”

Footsteps started to thunder from downstairs, and Vanya twisted. Five moaned in his sleep. Ignoring the guilt, she managed to clear her throat and get her siblings’ attention… Maybe for the first time. The vibrations refused to be ignored though. “I think they’ve found where we’re hiding. The intruders are coming for us.” 

Ben turned to her, though, and she lost her train of thought. His dark eyes glowed silver, and his skin kept growing paler and paler. The dark blood stood out on his face. Some of it came from Ben, but most of it came from the previous fights. It streaked down his cheeks, under his nose, across his forehead. He looked… He didn’t look like the brother she knew and loved. Instead, he looked like a monster.

She ignored that, falling back to listening to the vibrations. She shook Five back awake, and he startled back into consciousness. He blinked at her a few times, and she repeated herself. “I can… Can you not hear that?”

“Hear what?” Five said softly.

Vanya started to explain before letting her mouth snap shut. If nobody else could hear it, it came from her new powers. Five and Vanya spent yesterday trying to gauge the extent of it, but she still couldn’t  _ control  _ it. It seemed to revolve around sound waves and music. Yet, she could  _ create  _ her own vibrations based on her emotions.

She didn’t know anyone else’s powers who revolved around emotions. Theirs appeared to be a talent like playing piano. They could sit down and start playing whenever they wanted. Vanya kept getting pianos falling on her head, and she had no real way to stop the impact from rippling outwards. 

She knew drugs dulled their effect, though. All of their powers were subject to that particular fact. The few times Klaus managed to get others drunk with him, they always struggled with using their powers from that moment onwards. She remembered one eventful time Five tried to teleport and just ended up falling into Luther in the middle of the argument. 

Besides that, who could help her with her powers? They revolved around emotional control, and God knew nobody in this family had emotional stability. They were a mess of trauma and broken pieces badly taped together. 

Closing her eyes, she tried to count how many people hammered up to them. The individual footsteps threw her off; she didn’t know how to predict that. Did she divide by two? Did she add ten because it sounded plentiful? What if they struck the ground at the exact same time?

“You’re overthinking this,” Five whispered to her. “You’ve got this. What are you hearing, Van?”

“Ten or fifteen people are coming up to us,” she settled on after a few moments. “And they’re going to attack us.”

Luther shuffled his feet, conflicted, before finally opening his mouth to speak. “They’re stronger than us. I don’t know how we’re supposed to take them on. They have guns, and they have…”

“They’re better trained than the usual people we deal with,” Allison said after a few seconds. “We can’t win this fight.”

“Five…” Vanya didn’t know if this would actually work. She started speaking before she could think it all the way through. “Five, get behind me. I think I know how to handle this.”

“Vanya?” He peeled open his eyes again, staring at her. “What are you going to do?”

“The best I know how to do?” She got up and yanked him to his feet. He moaned as soon as he got vertical, but she pushed him in the direction of Allison. When she caught him, she gave Vanya a quizzical look. 

Vanya steadied herself by the door, the first thing they’d see as they burst through. She shook out her arms and her legs, and she thought through her emotions. How did the others trigger their powers? Or… Or was the control the problem here? She didn’t need to be a finely tuned machine, not for this one. She just needed to protect her siblings any way she could; that was why Ben gave in to the Horror. 

She needed to give in to her own powers.

The second the door opened, she let go. 

All of that anger, that jealousy, that bitterness boiled over and pulsed out of her. Behind her, her siblings yelped and swore. She kept channeling everything she ever resented. 

All of those times they excluded her. All of those times Dad insisted she was ordinary. All of those times she was helpless. All of those times she wanted to be anyone other than a Hargreeves.

_ (All of those times she read Allison’s magazines and watched her sister shine. All of those times she saw Dad’s favoritism for Luther. All of those times she saw her siblings return a little less whole. _

_ That time her brother left forever. All those sandwiches she left for him. _

_ That time she buried a brother.) _

The power ripped free and slammed into the people marching up the stairs. The concussion blast sent them back into the house. The one close enough to her hit the floor, and she watched, almost distantly, as their eyes blackened and their mouth opened into an empty scream. 

Then, she was stumbling backwards, wheezing as she fell to her knees. 

_ Look at that,  _ she thought as she felt the blood dripping,  _ she was part of the Umbrella Academy now. _

And as she collapsed into the cold, cold cement, she felt the vibrations again. But… But she hadn’t taken out all of them. Because downstairs, on the bottom floor, she felt more of them pushing in. 

They weren’t going to stop coming.

She thought she said something like that before she passed out.

But she didn’t know.

-

_ ‘Say goodbye.’  _

The Horror pressed the thought in Ben as he sunk back into his body. The red, red, red of his vision flickered in and out. His skin, his bones, his blood felt wrong. He swayed as his consciousness flooded back into him. Everything he ignored came rushing back. The pain of his foot, the stickiness of the blood, and the exhaustion almost made him collapse on the ground. 

Klaus grabbed at his shoulders, and Ben squinted at him. His mouth moved; no words came out. He waited and waited, hoping for his hearing to pop back in. His brother leant back, and his smile flickered out. 

Ben blinked and swayed and swallowed down the vomit threatening to surface.

_ ‘Say goodbye.’ _

The stubs of the Horror pressed against him, startling him upright. He pitched forward. Gravity moved around him, too, too fluid. Klaus’s grip tightened, and all at once, everything rang out too loud. 

_ “Ben, are you there? Ben?” _

_ “Vanya? Wake up!” _

_ “What does she mean there’s more coming in? We can’t… We can’t fight more!” _

_ “Ben?” _

Ben leant forward and vomited on Klaus’s shoes. His brother jumped back a moment too slow as the sludge burned through his throat. He coughed and wheezed before stumbling backwards. The Horror caught him on the railing, forcing him to stay upright. It still sat in his skin, his bones, his blood. It still controlled whether he fell over or stood upright; it still controlled every part of him. 

“Wow,” Klaus breathed out, “thank you for sharing that with me.”

He lifted his head, exhausted, the words refusing to come out. He blinked a few times. Ben felt disconnected. He didn’t sleep like he did before. He just… Watched from outside his body. It didn’t belong to him anymore; he gave over too much of himself to the Horror, and he didn’t know how to come back. 

Did he think he’d come back?

_ ‘Say goodbye.’ _

“Why?” he asked, barely realizing he said it out loud. His knees trembled, and he leant against Klaus. His brother cupped his face, hesitating, and Ben smiled at him before his head drooped back down to the Horror. “Why?”

The idea flashed through his head—the Commission, tearing through his siblings. Riddled with bullets or ripped apart or hacked to pieces. Death…  _ Protectprotectprotect.  _ But they kept coming. Too much, too big, too many. They would destroy them. And he couldn’t let that happen.  _ Protectprotectprotectdeathdyinghurtsorrysorrysorry _ —and Ben recoiled as the second half of the image settled in.

Ben could take out the Commission; he could defend his family. He reached down and pressed a hand against the tentacles, moaning. The portal widened and closed around them, a link to the other dimension. And he could make it bigger. He could grow the portal. He could tear a hole to the next dimension, and if they thought this Horror was a monster… Then they hadn’t faced true fear.

He could bring them true fear.

_ ‘Say goodbye.’ _

He needed to let go. He needed to stop being afraid—death couldn’t hold him back anymore. So what if he came back as a ghost? If it meant none of the others suffered, wouldn’t it be worth it?

_ ‘Say goodbye.’ _

“I can save you guys,” he mumbled, staring up at Klaus.

He smiled, watery. Ben finally made out the blood dripping down his temple. It must hurt. “You don’t have to, Benerino. You can take a break. You’ve done so much already—”

“I can save you,” he repeated. He stumbled backwards, but Klaus kept his grip strong. Ben offered a smile, and he ignored how he flinched back. “Thank you, Klaus. You… You gave me back a life. And all of this has been… Has been gravy. I’m not afraid anymore.”

“Why… Why are you saying goodbye?” 

Ben laughed. “We can’t win this. But I can win this. I… I’m sorry.”

“Ben—” But he started to shake free of Klaus, and the Horror approved. It pressed into Klaus and pushed him away. He staggered back towards his siblings, hesitating. What could he say to Allison and Luther? How could he express his gratitude? How did he explain how much he adored them, and how did he explain how much he didn’t want to say goodbye? But if he had to say goodbye…

He could do this.

Instead, though, he found himself finding his way to Five and Vanya. He cradled her in her lap despite the fact his eyes kept rolling back in his head. He entwined his fingers in her hair as she mumbled, tossing on the brink of consciousness. Her nose was bleeding. His nose was bleeding. Ben reached up and dabbed at his.

Huh.

“Five,” he said, loud enough his brother looked up. “I’m sorry. I love you. Teleport them away?”

“What?” Five stared at him. “Am I talking to you or the Horror?”

“I’m sorry.”  _ I’m sorry I’m leaving you to suffer through grief again. I’m sorry I know you’ll never really be a child. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect them while protecting my own life. I’m sorry this is goodbye.  _

“I love you.”  _ I love all six of you. I love this family. I wish I could’ve spent more years with you, but I’ve always known you six will accomplish more than I could. You guys will have a great life; I know that for a fact. And I love you too much to sacrifice any part of your future to try and win myself one.  _

“Teleport them away.” He rubbed a circle around the Horror, waiting for comprehension to dawn in Five’s eyes. He was always the smartest of them all.

Five realized it a second later. He shot straight up and shook his head. “You better not.”

“Teleport them away.” 

_ ‘Say goodbye.’ _

“I’m sorry,” he repeated to Klaus. “I love you.”

“No—”

But the Horror started to push at the portal, and Ben fell to the ground. He pressed his hands against the Horror as the portal started to stretch. It pulsed through him, his bones twisting and contorting inside him. Blue light flooded through him. His veins glowed through his pale, pale skin. 

And the portal started to open beneath him, and something growled. And something else screeched.

“You’re not the only little monster,” he mumbled to Horror, laughing.

And Five teleported away, all of them holding onto him, right as the next monster threw itself against him, and the world shattered into bright blue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With Diego's fight with Lila, the song I was envisioning was Crazy - Gnarls Barkley (which i know was used in the asylum but I'm just SUCH a fan of that song haha)  
> With Allison's fight with the Swede, I was thinking of Say My Name - Destiny's Child  
> Every other fight doesn't have a definite song haha (though I was listening to Crazy Ex-Girlfriend if that helps)


	11. it's in your soul (that the true distortion lies)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He blinked, and Ben sat in front of him. 
> 
> Five choked. “You look… Old.”
> 
> Ben smiled as he stretched out his hands in front of his face. “Guess I do. I don’t think… Time exists here. You would know better than me. But you need to go. I don’t know how long I can hold… This at bay.”
> 
> “What’s this?” He glanced around the pulsating blue lines around him. Something darker started to twist there. If he squinted, he could begin to make out a shape…
> 
> Something growled, and Five jumped. Ben grabbed his shoulders, folding him into a hug. “No, no, you don’t have to see this. Finish… Finish your jump—”
> 
> Another crash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soooo it's not the most put-together, cleanest chapter, but i have been STRUGGLING with it. I promise the next chapter will be an upgrade haha but if i didn't post it now, it probably would've been another two months. And if i come back and edit these chapters, this will be the FIRST one to get edited
> 
> that said, sorry about the hiatus! the plan is to finish the whole story by the end of 2020

_ (“Five.”  _

_ The world crackled and popped around them. As he eased back into consciousness, he felt his powers starting to grow. They wailed in the back of his head with one demand—jump. He needed to jump. _

_ He blinked hard and focused on Ben instead, and something clicked then. His powers surged again, desperate. They wanted to be right beside his brother, drinking in the power he emanated. If he teleported, he might not go anywhere. Not with this feeling pulling him towards Ben, sinking beneath his skin and tugging, tugging, tugging. _

_ “I’m sorry. I love you. Teleport them away?” He spoke, two voices layered on top, but genuine nonetheless. For the first time, Five understood the Horror as something more than a beast. It was a god first and foremost, and its wisdom crackled through its newest vessel. And like a god, it would not care if it tore his brother apart. He believed his father on very little occasions, but this one… This one he believed him.  _

_ “Am I talking to you or the Horror?” he asked, trying to hide his panic. Vanya shifted closer to him, unconsciously seeking out his voice. He scooted closer to her, but his bones began to vibrate with the longing. He needed to teleport, he needed to jump, he needed to be there when Ben made his final move. _

_ Ben smiled, soft and sad. And Five knew it had to be him… No god would look so remorseful upon leaving them behind. “I’m sorry. I love you. Teleport them away.” _

_ Five growled beneath his breath as Luther and Allison slid closer to him. He’d stand up, but he’d fall towards his brother. He  _ knew  _ that. The effort it took to sit upright took more out of him than he’d ever admit.  _

_ It felt as if Ben warped gravity to make him the center of the universe. It felt as if…  _

_ Five’s eyes grew wide, and he shook his head. “You better  _ not.”

_ It felt as if Ben was a black hole, and the power needed for that would be found in the portal. They all knew he carried a portal between worlds in his stomach; Five never anticipated him opening it. Yet, as the world tilted and reorientated itself to bow at Ben’s feet, he knew his brother couldn’t be swayed.  _

_ Yet, what happened to the center of black holes? Luther would know better than he did, but Five remembered some theory. At the very center, matter got compressed down. Time and space broke down.  _

_ Would Ben cease to exist upon opening this portal? _

_ “Teleport them away,” Ben said as an answer, eyes glassy.  _

_ Five struggled upwards, and someone propped a hand against his back. As he used that weight to help his balance, he stumbled towards his younger brother… The youngest Hargreeves. He couldn’t… He couldn’t lose Ben. _

_ Ben was the moral compass. _

_ Ben was the compassion. _

_ Ben was the normal one. _

_ Ben was the one who deserved a future more than any of them because he sacrificed his childhood. He can’t remember the last time he saw Ben truly happy, not with the guilt and the doubt about the Horror keeping him spinning, He never got a chance to live on his own; he was always plagued by the other dimension. _

_ It’s not fair… It’s not right. _

_ But his siblings’ hands began to swarm him in a newfound desperation. Luther clamped down on his shoulder as if to keep him from running. Diego, pressed tight against Luther’s chest, lolled against his back. Allison slipped up next to him, hand entwined with his, and Vanya, even in her sleep, shifted to capture his ankle.  _

_ Five couldn’t stop shaking his head as he watched Ben. His brother changed in front of them all. He transformed from the quiet one to the hero. He transformed from the one with unspeakable evils crawling inside him to the one martyr of the whole group. A tentacle pushed Klaus away, and their brother stumbled until his shoulder knocked against Five’s chin. He scowled with no real heat behind it.  _

_ “I’m sorry,” he said, a certainty in his voice he hadn’t heard before this week. He never associated Ben with boldness before. His brother displayed his courage in other, more subtle ways. “I love you.” _

_ “No—” _

_ “Five, we need to go,” Luther whispered. _

_ Five couldn’t look away from Ben. Their brother trembled once, twice, before falling to his knees. The tugging grew stronger and stronger; Five’s world crinkled around the edges, and for a second, the ground disappeared beneath him. He suspended in that blue void threatening to take over Ben. _

_ Then, Luther shook him. “Five.” _

_ “No,” he hissed again. Klaus tripped over his feet and fell onto his lap.  _

_ And before them, they watched Ben come undone. All around him, veins of bright blue shot into the world from his stomach. It curled and entwined around the tentacles which already emerged. They grew longer, stretching up to graze the bright blue sky, mixing until there was no difference between the earth and Ben, the heavens and Ben. Something cracked and popped, something ripping  _ free,  _ and Ben… _

_ Ben started laughing. He whispered something to the Horror, and the tips of the tentacles curled as if in agreement. _

_ “Five!” _

_ “I…”  _ Can’t.  _ But he knew he couldn’t finish that statement. Instead, he reached deep into his reserves. His siblings’ hands anchored him as he threw himself into the portal headfirst, plunging into another storm of blue.) _

_ (And, for a moment, Five ceased to exist. His powers merged straight into Ben’s, and his identity lapsed into his brother’s. Five and Ben were one and the same.  _

_ And Ben’s pain rippled through his body. He screamed as his insides threaten to tear itself out. He screamed as it writhed inside him, bucking and feeding. Its hunger resonated into his bones; its desperation rippled through his veins. _

_ “Five? You can’t be here.” _

_ Something gentle enveloped him, and slowly, the fiery pain vanished into a numbness. The tentacles withdrew from his body.  _

_ He blinked, and Ben sat in front of him.  _

_ Five choked. “You look… Old.” _

_ Ben smiled as he stretched out his hands in front of his face. “Guess I do. I don’t think… Time exists here. You would know better than me. But you need to go. I don’t know how long I can hold…  _ This  _ at bay.” _

_ “What’s this?” He glanced around the pulsating blue lines around him. Something darker started to twist there. If he squinted, he could begin to make out a shape… _

_ Something growled, and Five jumped. Ben grabbed his shoulders, folding him into a hug. “No, no, you don’t have to see this. Finish… Finish your jump—” _

_ Another crash. _

_ A gunshot. _

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—”

_ Belatedly, Five realized Ben started shaking. _

_But Ben shoved him away.)_

“—ve, Five, you need to calm down. Five, you’re  _ here.  _ With  _ us.  _ With me and Luther, and  _ Jesus Christ, I can’t—”  _ Someone kept their hands on his wrists as he thrashed and flailed.

It took a few seconds for Five to realize who he fought against. He deflated, wrists falling to the grass, and he wheezed. Something wet landed on his face. He blinked frantically, trying to clear the fog.

He stared up at Allison, an exhausted smile curling across his face. “Allie.”

“Five.” She sniffled and swiped at her face. 

His eyes threatened to loll back in his head, and he let his head bang against the ground. “We have to… Ben’s scared.”

“Never mind Ben…” Allison took a gasping breath, hiccuping on her sobs. “I don’t mean that. I just… Where did Klaus and Vanya go?”

“What?” He tried to glance around, but something stung too, too bright. The world exploded into a white blaze.

And he passed out.

-

_ He was a miracle baby. He almost killed her in his birth, and blood splattered across her bedroom. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t scrub it out of her sheets, her carpets, her pillows. And most days, if she moved too fast or too sudden, she lost control of her breath and ended up blacking out.  _

_ And he was  _ her _ miracle baby.  _

_ Her grandmother always told her babies should cry a lot. But her child never did. Instead, he stared up at the world with his dark, dark eyes as if trying to memorize everything. And he smiled so easily. As she talked to him, as she fed him, as she sang to him, he was always smiling up at her. _

_ He clung to her index finger as she cooed at him. He offered her that big, toothless smile of his, and she started to bounce him. He giggled, wheezy and light. She smiled at him and kissed the tip of his nose, his forehead, his cheeks.  _

_ Her parents told her not to name him… A rumor had drifted through their neighborhood of a white man coming to adopt the mystery babies, the babies who had simply appeared. And she was too young to care for a child, and they lacked the money to support him. This rich white man… He would pay enough to give all of them better lives.  _

_ Through the wall, they discussed the price her son would go for. _

_ She murmured to him again, cuddling him and kissing him. He looked like  _ her…  _ In that way, they would always be connected. When they first brought up the selling of her son, she protested, but she knew she would never be able to stop it.  _

_ At least, she told herself, she would always be able to recognize him. Maybe one day, she’d meet him again. _

_ He’d go by a different name then, though… Right now, she was content to call him Miracle, for that was what he was. _

_ - _

_ Boom.  _

A warm weight leant against her arm. She shifted into the heat, allowing it to encompass her. It spread until her whole body buzzed with a particular softness. Her fingertips began to tingle as they lost feeling. She smiled.

_ Boom. _

Wherever she was, it felt muted. It felt like she lived underwater, and the blue light started to seep beneath her heavy, heavy eyelids. An exhaustion started to settle through her, threatening to let her drown should a current take her under. And, for a second, she wondered if she would care. Would it be so bad? To just let the weight of the world fall away when she didn’t belong in this world anyway— 

_ Boom. _

Something sticky settled on her shoulder, and her smile twisted.  _ That  _ didn’t belong in the sea. She shifted and started to reach up, struggling to get her arm up. When she reached the weight, it settled into a nest of sticky, congealed curls. 

_ Boom. _

She peeled one eye open, and she tried to force her vision back into focus. It took her a few seconds to recognize Klaus. He looked so… Peaceful, almost. As he leant against her, eyes closed with a small smile starting to play at his lips, the rest of the world started to drop away. She didn’t want to disturb him. She wanted to fall back asleep—

_ Boom. _

But when she pulled her hand away, red covered her hand. It stood out, stark against the blue hues surrounding the rest of the world. And that was just  _ Klaus…  _ She was forgetting something. Someone…

_ Ben. _

She shot upright, and Klaus toppled off her. Choking on the air, she started to twist around to make out any of her siblings. But… But none of them appeared. All she saw was the wallpaper of the mansion, peeling and… And moving? As if alive? As if  _ possessed?  _ Vanya tried to draw her knees up to her chest, but the top of her head bumped into the wall… And it  _ writhed  _ against her. 

She barely stifled the scream building in the back of her throat, glancing down. Reaching down, she grabbed at Klaus and began to shake him. “Klaus.  _ Klaus!” _

“Mom,” he slurred as if just coming up for air. “Mom, I don’t want breakfast.”

Vanya shook him harder until he moaned again. He twisted to look up at her, squinting. At some point, blood smeared down the side of his face, covering one of his eyes. It looked suspiciously like a handprint… She resisted the urge to gag. “Klaus, we need to… We need to go find Ben.”

_ Boom. Boom. Boom. _

“And what is that  _ noise?”  _ She hated how her voice came out as a whine, but all around them, the mansion crumbled in new ways.

Klaus blinked at her. He reached over, placing a hand on her chest with a dopey smile. “Boom.”

“What?” It dawned on her the next moment. “It’s a  _ heartbeat?” _

“Maybe.” He shuffled again as if he might fall asleep.

She shook him again before recoiling. What did they teach them about first aid? Could she shake someone with a head injury. She would just have to… Shake him in a better way. “Ben. We gotta get to Ben.”

She remembered the way Ben stared at all of them, lucid but in pain, as he made his final sacrifice. She remembered getting shoved over to Five while Ben begged for him to teleport them away. She remembered the familiar dropping in her stomach, the way she felt weightless, when he started to teleport, and…

And she remembered the tugging of the portal Ben ripped open. It pulsed and fought against them, and Five cried out… So she let go.

Oh, God, she let go.

“Ben…  _ Ben.”  _ Klaus breathed out the name with a sort of reverence she never heard from him before. His eyes grew wide as he tried to scramble upwards, all awkward and clumsy, and his face kept paling. He sagged back to the ground and gestured frantically for her to back up. She barely scooted back in time to dodge the puke.

With a moan, Klaus collapsed back against the wall. “I can’t do this, Vanny. I can’t… I’m not the hero sort. Just ask Pops.”

“I’m not either! But it doesn’t…” She hesitated. Could she really say that? That their father’s opinion didn’t matter? They spent most of their lives living for their father’s approval. They couldn’t just…  _ Stop.  _ There was a reason they listened to him. He was the smartest man she ever met, and he always knew how to make them better. He just wanted them to meet their full potential—

_ Boom. _

She shook her head. Vanya knew better than to unpack her feelings on Dad right now; it might take years of therapy. According to the internet, on the few days Dad let them use his computer, she researched the cost of a session. She thought about sneaking out of the mansion to find out. 

_ Boom. _

Klaus cocked his head at her before wincing. “Shoot, did I miss something? Or is it just… Awkward silence right now? I feel kinda floaty. Like, I’m coming off some really weird trip right now.”

“Sorry. I was just thinking. We… This isn’t a choice, Klaus. It’s  _ Ben.  _ And you know Ben would do anything to save any one of us. So… We have to try.” She pushed her way to her feet, ignoring the way her knees threatened to buckle beneath her. As if sensing her new will, the lights burst into a brilliant stream of white sparks. Vanya shrieked and covered her head, dodging forward.

Klaus giggled, or sobbed, or something in-between. “The  _ house  _ is against us.”

_ Boom. Boom. _

Vanya reached down, trying to get him to take her hand. He stared at it for a few seconds before linking their fingers together. She started to pull him upright as the phantom heartbeat grew fiercer and fiercer.

And then, the house  _ exploded. _

The world plunged into a bright, bright white. She tried to blink the sparks out of her vision, but they refused to ebb away. Klaus started to cry, and she pulled his hand even closer to her heart. She cradled it as she collapsed to her knees. As she tugged him closer, she let his head bang against her shoulder.

Her vision cleared a little, and she squinted at Klaus. “That’s… That’s weird, right?”

“Every part of this situation is weird,” he mumbled. “I… At the end of all days, I really didn’t think it’d be you and me.”

“Who’d you think it’d be?” She rubbed a thumb over his hand as she waited for the lights to resettle.

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I thought, like… I’d die first because of the drugs and the booze and all that. Out of the seven of us, it just makes sense. And, like, you didn’t have powers, you’d go next.”

“Why have you… Thought this out?” Vanya shook her head. “Never mind, I don’t want to think about that. And it’s not just us. Everyone is still alive… We just have to fight to keep them that way.”

“Until the thing in the wallpaper comes out.” Klaus’s eyes widened as he stared at the wall. For a second, she thought he might puke again. She resisted the urge to glance over before steeling her resolve.

Then, she saw it too.

Vanya barely managed to swallow down her panic as she threw herself away from the opposing wall. At the last second, she grabbed at Klaus too, and the two of them hovered inches from the other wall. They stared at the decorations on the wall as the images twisted and distorted. Even the sconce on the wall only put out dark shadows, reaching out to touch them.

_ Boom. _

The movement in the wall stopped.

_ Boom. _

And it pushed outwards. 

“Do you  _ see  _ that? Am I dreaming?” Klaus started to pinch at himself, pushing up his sleeves to reveal… A surprising amount of track marks. She’d have to talk to him later about that one… If they survived. But if he  _ knew  _ he was killing himself with the drugs, why would he keep… No. She couldn’t think about that.

_ Focus, Vanya. _

The wallpaper began to crackle, the object growing heavier and heavier as it pressed against the wall. It was a vague shape; she couldn’t figure out what it might be. Still, Vanya curled up next to Klaus, trying to steady herself. “What is  _ happening?” _

It ripped open, and a tentacle lashed outwards. As it whipped towards them, Vanya screamed.

Klaus threw himself on top of her, babbling something under his breath. As the momentum rolled them, Klaus began to scramble upwards.  _ “Ben, Ben, if this is the Horror, please tell it to chill. We’re bros, aren’t we? I think we’re bros. Tell it to calm the fuck down, oh fuck, oh shit, oh—” _

Something squished overhead.

Inches above Klaus’s back, another tentacle restrained it. Vanya blinked as it shoved the first one back into the wall with a viciousness she didn’t recognize. This one pulsed bright blue, though, brighter than any of the remaining lights in the hallway.

And somehow, they both knew it at the same time.  _ “Ben?” _

The tentacle tore into the opposing one, much stronger, much  _ faster.  _ She never thought of Ben as the strongest one of the Umbrella Academy, but staring at this fight… She knew the others never stood a chance. 

Klaus grabbed at her arm. “Vanya… Vanya,  _ look.” _

At the beginning of the hallway, a figure lumbered forward.

“Ben?”

-

_ He knew the rules. _

_ As he tried to get up the steps, though, his tummy made sad noises. He made some too. When had the steps gotten so  _ big?  _ But if he didn’t keep running, Dad would yell at him. And he didn’t want Dad to be mad. Dad wanted what was best for all of them. _

_ He always said that in his stern, ‘don’t-ask-questions’ voice. _

_ “Keep up!” Dad called as Four ran faster. _

_ Four shouldn’t be faster. Four ‘dally-dillyed,’ that was what Pogo said. But he couldn’t make his feet move. It just  _ hurt.

_ As his foot hit a step, he tripped. As he curled up, he whined before he bit his tongue. Dad didn’t like whining.  _ “Whining is for dogs.”

_ He had never seen a dog, but he knew they must be bad if Dad said that. _

_ Somehow, Dad stood over him. Did he teleport like Five? Was Dad magic just like the rest of them? _

_ “What are you doing?” he said in his mean voice. _

_ He hugged himself. “My tummy hurts—” _

_ “And a little nausea and pressure will stop you from saving the world? Is that what you intend to tell those you failed? You couldn’t do it today because you couldn’t withstand a little bit of pain? That’s a sacrifice you’re willing to make? Pity.” _

_ Number Six blinked away his tears. “Sorry, Dad…”  _

-

Her family was dying in front of her, and no matter what she did, she kept losing them. She saw Ben for the last time on that rooftop; she knew, in her heart, she should’ve said goodbye to him sooner. When he first appeared as her savior, covered in blood and looking a million miles away, she should’ve Rumored him back to his senses. Maybe then… Maybe she could’ve saved him.

But Ben pushed them away and flashed that smile of his. It made him look so much  _ younger…  _ In that last moment, he looked like a little kid playing with things they didn’t understand. This was her baby brother, she realized as the tears started to swell up in her eyes, and she had failed him. 

_ “I love you,”  _ he said.

And she didn’t say it back.

Five teleported them away, but it went wrong. It  _ felt  _ wrong. For a second, time and space ceased to exist. She wanted to scream, but nobody would hear. She wanted to cry, but nobody would see. Instead, she waited in that odd limbo for Five to make a choice: would he fight to get them through the portals  _ he  _ ripped open, or would he give up?

When he made that choice, she tumbled to the grass outside the mansion. The portal crackled behind them, not quite closed, and she saw Vanya and Klaus. She charged, reaching into it… And it  _ closed.  _

She grasped at thin air, and just like that, Vanya and Klaus were gone.

Then, Five woke up and started flailing around. She tried to comfort him, but he raked his nails down her face. She  _ knew  _ he aimed for her eyes; she should be lucky it just resulted in deep gashes on her cheeks. Every tear made her tremble, the salt water inflicting hell on her nerves, but she couldn’t stop crying.

He fell asleep as Diego woke up, but Diego doesn’t say anything. He stared into the sky, not responding, as she nudged him and begged him. She Rumored him into standing up. He stood. She Rumored him into walking with Luther. He walked.

But he wasn’t  _ there. _

Allison staggered behind her three remaining brothers, her bullet wound still weeping into the makeshift bandage. Luther kept glancing back, but she shooed him away. She needed… She swallowed hard and returned to her mantra.

_ “I heard a rumor my family was whole again. I heard a rumor my family was whole again. I heard a rumor—”  _ She hiccuped through a sob before gritting her teeth. Dad said she could distort reality with this. So, goddamnit, she couldn’t risk  _ not  _ trying.  _ “I heard a rumor my family was whole again.” _

“Allison—”

“Please, Luther.” Her voice grew hoarser and hoarser. Every time she swallowed, it tasted like blood now. But… But she couldn’t give up on this. If she could Rumor anything, she needed this. She wanted to fix her family. 

In a way, she never thought she could lose them. Sure, they went on dangerous missions sometimes. The bank robbery had gunfire, and one of the drug busts involved guns. But none of them saw any real escape from the mansion. They’d always struggle to leave behind their dad, their  _ powers,  _ so she just assumed nobody would leave. Not by running away, not by… Not by  _ dying. _

She planned her own escape. When she turned eighteen, she intended to run off to Hollywood to become a movie star. And she never thought twice about bringing any of them along. Luther, Five, and Vanya would stay at the mansion. If Klaus left, he’d live on the streets nearby. And Diego, and Ben would end up in New York because they never expressed interest for anywhere else. 

She always knew where to find them.

And now, she had no clue where they went.

_ “I heard a rumor my family was whole again—” _

“Allison!”

“What?”

_ “Look!”  _ Luther threw out his arm, stopping her from walking forward. She grabbed Diego’s elbow to keep him from plodding on mindlessly. Five moaned from the jostling, but she ignored him and followed Luther’s gaze. 

At the end of the property, a man watched the whole world go to hell. For a second, her hope flourished. Maybe it was Dad. Dad would know how to solve everything, and they could take a backseat. She’d be willing to do  _ anything  _ to save them. 

And then, she got a closer look as he started to walk towards them. She squinted at the man. He wore a suit and a tie, and despite the grim solemnness set across his face, he still looked friendlier than their father. He nodded at her before pulling up his sleeve, glancing at his watch, and he hummed loud enough for them to hear. 

Allison pushed in front of her brothers, ignoring Luther’s quiet protest.  _ “I heard a rumor you told me what you were doing here.” _

He smiled as his eyes glazed over. “I want to help save your brothers.”

“Which ones? How do you know—”

He held a finger. “That seems outside the realm of your Rumor. And before you do it again, I promise I’m not here to cause you any harm. And even if I was, I think you might need me enough you need to look past that.”

“We need answers,” Luther said. His voice shifted, reminding them all he was team leader. She tried to bite back her scowl. Allison had this handled just fine, and she  _ knew  _ Luther wouldn’t ask the right questions. If something about their dad came up, it’d be a waste of time. “How do you know us?”

“I met your brother a few days back when he was wandering the street.” He dipped his head towards Allison, and she stumbled back. How did he know it was because of her? Or did Ben end up spilling their secrets? She… She guessed she couldn’t blame him. He was out of it since her Rumor, and she knew he got banged up… If he helped Ben in any way, she couldn’t fault him. “And Five and I go way back, but that one is complicated.”

“And you expect us… What? To just think you came out of nowhere to help us?” Luther asked. He rolled his eyes before taking a deep breath, trying to settle his reaction. Allison gawked at him. He didn’t roll his eyes. When he spoke to authority figures—their dad, their mom, Pogo, the media—he made sure to be the ideal child. The little act of teenage rebellion caught her off guard. 

He held up his hands in surrender. “I suppose I can’t convince you either way. But I think I have a way to save your brother.”

“Ben?” Allison twisted around, glancing at the mansion.

Luther scoffed. “And you expect us—”

“Luther.” She grabbed at his arm. With a heavy breath, she nodded towards the man. “If he can help us save Ben, we have to go for it. And if Ben trusts you… Then we can trust you too. I’m Allison. This is Luther, Diego… And I guess you already know Five.”

“I’m Hazel. It’s nice to finally meet you—”

“And,” Allison cut him off, “if you betray us in any way, I will Rumor you into ripping yourself apart.”

-

_ Six can smell it in the air… And so can the monster inside. _

_ Two pretended not to cry as the nanny fussed over his skinned knees. He tripped while racing with One, and now blood poured down his legs. And it smelled… He never realized how strongly blood smelled. _

_ The monster twisted and stabbed at him, desperate to get out, but Six swallowed hard and focused on the book he held. It shook in his hands, threatening to tumble free, so he clamped down harder. He read this page again and again, but Dad assigned him this reading. _

Frankenstein…  _ It was fitting. _

_ Something banged outside, and Six threw the book by accident. The nanny looked up at him. “Are you—” _

_ Four limped in, blood on his cheek, and Six blacked out. _

_ When he woke up again, he saw the pages of  _ Frankenstein  _ were wet and red. _

_ - _

“It’s not Ben,” Klaus murmured to Vanya, grabbing her arm. He stared at what  _ should  _ be his brother, trying to figure out the wrongness about the figure. As he stumbled into view, though, it became more and more apparent. Vanya gasped, and Klaus gagged before turning around to puke again. 

It wasn’t Ben… But it  _ was  _ Ben.

Tentacles wrapped around him, impossible to tell where the Horror began and he ended. They twisted around his arms and legs, and every footstep came with a twitch of the monster. His mouth lolled open, drooling onto his chest, while his eyes glowed silver. One last tentacle roped up, tight around his neck, and then disappearing into his hairline. 

But there was no portal, not in his torso. 

“Ben…” Vanya took a cautious step forward. “Does it… Hurt?”

“It’s not Ben,” Klaus repeated. “It’s… Hi. You’re the Horror, aren’t you?”

The Horror nodded Ben’s head, and Klaus’s heart sank a little. He took a deep breath and stepped forward anyway, ignoring how he stumbled, ignoring how the world shook and shifted and changed beneath his feet. The Horror reacted faster than he did, bracing him upright without a second thought.

Klaus offered his best smile. “Is Benerino in there?”

A shake of the head.

“Is he somewhere else in this hellscape?” He waved a hand around at their surroundings. Because this  _ couldn’t  _ be real life. The wallpaper kept vibrating, and Klaus already saw double of everything. For all the times his siblings told him being high didn’t solve anything, it gave him some pretty good experience for today. In fact, he wished he was high right now because then maybe it’d feel less like the whole universe conspired against them. 

_ (And the ghosts were gone. Where did they go? Did the void eat them up? Did… Was… Was Dave dead? Double-dead? And why did that hurt so much? He was some random man he never met, but Klaus wanted to crumple up and bawl until he returned—) _

The Horror nodded. It surprised a laugh out of Klaus, and he leant his head against Ben’s. And, with his eyes closed, he could almost pretend his brother was right there. An arm came up and wrapped around his shoulders with surprising gentleness.

Then again, he remembered how the Horror played with him the night after the mausoleum. Ben sat down at some point and fell asleep, but Klaus never managed to get any sleep on those nights. The Horror remained active, twining with his hair and plucking at his uniform, and anything Klaus said, it reacted to. He had… He bonded with the Horror that night, and when he fell asleep curled up against his brother, the Horror heaped itself over the top of both of them like a safety blanket.

But he didn’t want the Horror right now as his head pounded and his vision blurred. He wanted  _ Ben,  _ who always managed to make things better. Ben, with his quiet disapproval because he always thought Klaus would be something better.  _ Klaus.  _ He knew all the ways Klaus failed, and he  _ still  _ believed in him. 

It made sense, in some tragic way, Klaus’s favorite sibling would be the one to die. Everything he cared about always vanished. Everything he  _ loved  _ always ended. Klaus was the broken one, but it always hurt others.

Maybe he should just—

The Horror growled as if sensing his thoughts, and Klaus blinked back the sudden tears. As he backpedaled, he noticed Vanya staring at him with wide, concerned eyes, so he flashed a big smile. “So! Do you wanna show us where the real Ben is—”

The Horror shoved him back farther, eyes flashing. Klaus toppled into Vanya who barely managed to catch him. She grabbed his arm hard, cowering away. The Horror took choppy steps forward before pausing. It tilted Ben’s head back, staring up at the ceiling for a long moment. 

And then…

_ Boom. Boom. _

“It’s Ben’s heartbeat,” Vanya whispered. She swallowed hard and ran a hand through her messy hair. Then, she gaped. “Wait, Klaus. That means Ben is still  _ alive.  _ As long as we can hear the heartbeat—”

It stopped. Vanya choked on her words, and Klaus let out a strangled noise. Every time they got close to Ben, it got yanked away from them. All of his hope kept… Kept getting squashed, again and again. 

_ “We’re going to be a family this time around.” _

That was Ben’s voice—slurred and sleepy and little mumbled—but it was Ben. His head snapped towards the Horror, but nothing gave it away. It kept staring up at the ceiling, waiting, but Klaus knew it was Ben. Vanya gasped and stumbled into Klaus, her grip getting harder. He yelped and tried to shake himself free, but it didn’t work. Instead, one hand flew up to her mouth. 

“He… He said that to me,” Vanya whispered. And  _ that  _ got a reaction from the Horror. It twisted towards her and nodded. And somehow, the Ben it managed to wear smiled, shutting his mouth to offer a genuine, if small, smile.

_ “I love everyone in this family.” _

The Horror started to move then. It took a stumbling step towards the two of them, but neither of them moved, neither of them cowered this time around. It didn’t  _ want  _ them though. Instead, it pushed past the two of them with its shambling, unsteady steps, each tentacles forcing Ben to move.

_ “I… I don’t want to lose you.” _

Nodding towards the Horror, Vanya grabbed Klaus’s hand and started to follow him. Klaus whimpered and closed his eyes instead, the world swirling all around them. For a second, they stopped moving. Then, she threw an arm around his shoulder and whispered reassurances in his head. 

_ “We’re not supposed… We don’t have to deal with anything on our own anymore.” _

Klaus remembered that one. His heart ached because while he might recognize it, he didn’t  _ think  _ about it. Ben hadn’t been sleeping, hadn’t been eating, had been consumed by the Horror, but he still sought out every opportunity to help the family. It didn’t matter what happened to him. It didn’t matter if he limped on a broken foot or stood with the drugs diluting all of his senses… He wanted what was best for the family.

_ “All we have is this family, whether we like it or not.” _

Vanya nudged Klaus. “Please don’t puke. But  _ look.” _

The Horror pushed open one of the spare rooms. But blue light spilled out around the door, and the second it opened, the room flooded white. His stomach tossed, but he swallowed hard and stumbled forward. Vanya kept one hand on his arm as they crept up to the door. The Horror stepped aside.

And inside, two figures sat, completely illuminated by blue, particles of their bodies floating and merging into the open air. The room was made of the same material. He felt as if he could pass his hand through anything in there. 

Vanya knocked against him. “I think… Horror, is it a memory?”

The Horror nodded.

Memory-Ben sat on a bed, blankets heaped all over him. Memory-Five took a step backwards.  _ “I… I… Fuck. We’ll wait until you feel better too. I won’t leave you. You’re… You’re my favorite brother.” _

“Ouch,” Klaus muttered.

Memory-Ben leant forward, practically collapsing on top of Memory-Five, but he pushed him off with ease. As Memory-Ben stared up at the ceiling, he murmured something too softly for the rest of them to hear. 

Klaus took a deep breath and stepped forward. 

As he stepped inside, something cold reached out and crawled all over him. He gasped and swatted as the particles settled all over him, but they refused to go away. In the next second, something  _ hot  _ sweltered over him. 

And he blinked, and suddenly, he faced Memory-Five. His mouth moved without his consent, but when it came out, it wasn’t  _ his.  _ It was  _ Ben.  _ “We’re a family, Five.”

And his body ached and hurt, and Klaus wanted to start crying. Why did it  _ hurt  _ so badly? Was he… Was this how Ben felt in this moment? It felt like his whole body baked and threatened to give out on him. It felt like coming out of a really bad trip, and Klaus hated how sticky and awkward the words felt in his mouth. 

Something twisted inside of him, though, more pure and more prominent than the heat. It was… 

Oh. 

Ben really loved the family, didn’t he?

Klaus ripped away from Memory-Ben, and he slammed back against the ground. Vanya scrambled down to him, staring at him. “What just… Happened?”

“I think,” he said muzzily, “that I just became Ben? And then left? But… God, Vanny, if that’s how Ben feels, he really likes this family a lot more.” 

The Horror nodded, and it craned his head back again. 

The phantom heartbeat started again. 

And then, the next second, Ben’s voice drifted over.  _ “I can save you. Thank you, Klaus. You… You gave me back a life. And all of this has been… Has been gravy. I’m not afraid anymore. We can’t win this. But I can win this. I… I’m sorry.”  _

The Horror glanced over at them.

“Can we get him back?” Vanya finally said. 

And it nodded.

_ - _

_ The monster wiggled around inside of him, content. Recently, no matter whether it satisfied its hunger or not, it insisted on moving around. It felt out the wall between Ben and itself, trying to expand it. It was a game of tug-of-war, and Ben somehow kept losing more and more ground.  _

_ He rested an arm on his torso, and he moaned as the monster slammed against him. As the sound of his pain receded, he heard the celebration next door. And while he  _ knew  _ it wasn’t anything important, it sounded… Fun.  _

_ Fun might be putting it lightly. _

_ Klaus grew closer and closer to Diego these days; Ben spent too much time training with their father or Pogo. They worried about his ‘lack of control.’ Until he could manipulate every movement of his monsters, he wouldn’t be allowed to hang out with any of the other children. After all, they were gifts. _

_ He was a burden.  _

_ He twisted until his back rested against the wall, and he closed his eyes, listening to the sounds of his brothers—was that the right word? Pogo said to use it like that, but it didn’t make sense—playing and laughing together. _

_ Both of them… _

_ Both of them could pass as regular people.  _

_ Ben couldn’t. _

_ Ben sat up abruptly, the thin blanket falling off. The monsters grumbled their discontent, but he ignored it because for the first time, the full weight of that realization set in. He was… He was  _ never  _ going to have a normal life. _

_ - _

Hazel owned an apartment near the mansion. Against every wall, though, he stacked up boxes upon boxes with the neat labels of someone else. That, or Hazel dotted his eyes with hearts and wrote in something akin to cursive. Some of the other things unpacked, though, were photographs of him with another aging woman.

Waving a hand towards his counter, Hazel cleared his throat. “Feel free to make yourself at home. I need to go dig out my first-aid shit… I really thought I aged out of healing bullet wounds, but I suppose…”

Allison glared at him, but Luther took her elbow. She almost hit him before calming down. “ _ What _ , Lu?”

“We need to trust him.” He threw up a hand when she opened her mouth to argue. “I know, I know, we don’t know him. But he’s our best shot, right? And I’m sure your threat got across just fine.”

“I…” She wrinkled her nose at him before huffing and sitting down on the cardboard box labeled  _ ‘kitchen supplies.’  _ The person drew a bird sitting on top of the words, which didn’t make sense to Luther, but Hazel seemed to regard all of the drawings with a certain softness he didn’t understand.

Hazel must’ve really loved that woman in all of the photos. In almost all of them, he stared at her as if she hung the moon in the sky. Some of them didn’t feature him at all. They were small moments, mostly forgotten in time, but he framed them all with the same care. 

Luther glanced at Allison. When this all ended, would he ever look at her like that? When this all ended, would they get a semblance of the same life back? Because… Because he never loved her as passionately as Hazel loved that woman. He wanted to meet someone like that, he wanted to meet someone he’d reinvent the world for.

She met his eye with a sad smile. “You see it too, huh?”

“This is a bad time—” he started.

Allison cocked her head. “It might be the only time we get, Lu. I just… I don’t know. Nothing makes sense today.”

“Yeah…” He eased down next to her, still cradling Five against his chest. Diego sat against the door to the apartment, unfocused eyes fixated just above his shoulder. He never thought Diego could look so… Vulnerable. He knew his brother was human, he  _ did,  _ he just didn’t think…

He didn’t think he could miss Diego’s fire this much. Every plan he made today went uncontested, but he kept glancing over at his brother. He should be fighting back. He should be making Luther  _ better.  _ Because while they hated each other, they also… They also loved each other, didn’t they?

Did Luther even know what love was? 

She reached over, grabbing his hand. “I… Do you…”

“Do I…?”

“Do you think we’re going to lose them anyway?” She didn’t give any more specifics; she didn’t need to. They both knew the people they both worried and fretted about. If it was anyone else, he’d bring up their father. Where did he disappear? Had he gotten sucked up into the strength of Ben’s portal? And if Diego was more…  _ Conscious,  _ he would bring up their mom. But, instead, Luther couldn’t stop thinking about all their brothers and their sister. He never thought he’d lose them. 

He shook his head. “They’re fighters.”

“Those two fight the hardest, and look at them.” Allison didn’t meet his eye again. 

Reaching down almost subconsciously, he started to run a hand through Five’s hair. “They’re going to come back to us. Or we’ll find a way to them. We’re… We’re the Umbrella Academy. We don’t just give up.”

“Luther…”

He reached over to wipe away a tear, but she jolted away. As she stood up, she stared at him, eyes wide and pleading. He didn’t know, though. What did she  _ want  _ from him? What did… What did  _ Luther  _ want?

His family back? His life back?

“If we get them back,” Allison said, slowly, swallowing as if the words physically pained her, “we can’t go back to the same life. We need to… We need to be better brothers and sisters to one another. We need to  _ be  _ brothers and sisters.”

There was something she wasn’t saying. 

_ “We  _ need to be brother and sister,” he asked, voice wavering. 

She glanced away. “Do you ever think the only reason we ever… You know… Was because we didn’t have anyone else there? I’ll always love you, Lu, but maybe it’s time to love you like we should’ve in the beginning. And maybe we sneak out of the house to fall deeper in love with other people. Maybe we’ll get married and be each other’s best man or head bridesmaid or whatever. But—” 

Whatever she wanted to say next got cut off by Hazel reemerging with a first-aid kit. He glanced between the two of them for only a moment before clearing his throat. “Who has the most pressing injuries?”

“Five,” Allison answered at the same time Luther said, “Allison.” 

“Okay, Allison, you’re up.” Hazel gestured for her to sit back down, and she did. She refused to look over at Luther, though, and he got up and moved to sit next to Diego instead. If Hazel would be talking at them anyway, he might as well be right next to his brother. 

Diego would’ve been laughing to hear their pseudo break-up. 

He nudged his brother as he sat down, setting Five down on his other side, but his brother didn’t react. Luther sighed, and he was shocked to realize how  _ close  _ he was to losing it. He needed to reign it back. If their father heard that Luther started to  _ cry,  _ he’d never be able to live it down. Training would be harder until he could hammer out all of his emotions. He needed to be the team leader right now, nothing more and nothing less.

As Hazel peeled off the pillowcase, Allison hissed. “Tell us how to save Ben.”

“There’s a lot you two don’t know. It’d be easier if…” Hazel hesitated on his next words before shaking his head. “Never mind. The only person who’d be able to deal with all of this would be Ben, and Ben is the problem right now.”

“Ben always knows more than the rest of us.” Luther laughed a little. “Him and Five, at least. The two you  _ actually  _ know.”

“I’m not sure if you want to know me, kiddo. I tend to bring bad luck with him.” His eyes darted up to one of the photos before he looked away. As he pulled Allison’s leg away from her, he winced in sympathy. “This is going to hurt… Want anything to numb the pain? I’m sure I can drum up some vodka.”

“I’m thirteen,” she responded flatly.

He snapped. “Right. I knew I was forgetting about something. The Old-Timer never seemed to mind that, but… You know what? I’m going to stop talking about that before you ask something I can’t answer.”

“Who’s the Old-Timer?”

Hazel pointed at Luther. “Like that. That one is complicated… He’s one of the best employees the Commission ever had. And, before you ask, the Commission is a little too complicated to explain right now. But they’re the people who have been attacking you, and they’re the people who hired the Swedes.”

“Okay, so we have a name. Do we have a motive?” He inched forward right as Allison yelped. He looked away out of respect; he didn’t need to see her bleeding and crying. She might even Rumor him to forget about this moment. 

Hazel laughed softly. “That’s complicated.”

“You have to give us something,” Allison got out between gritted teeth. “Why is a whole organization trying to take us down? Or is that  _ still  _ too complicated to explain?”

“Give me a second…” Hazel took a deep breath. When he started again, there was a certain  _ weight  _ to it. Luther knew better than to interrupt him, not now. “The Commission has a singular goal in mind, and no, I can’t tell you the goal. Maybe when you’re older, ha. But… But they will do  _ whatever  _ they need to in order to accomplish that goal. It doesn’t matter who they hurt, and it doesn’t matter what they do. If it meant shooting up a theatre, they would. If it meant killing innocents, they would.”

“Jesus,” Luther muttered. Allison went pale.

He nodded. “And the Umbrella Academy is the polar opposite. You guys have taken it upon yourself to stop people like that no matter what. No assassin is too big of a task for you, especially at this age.”

“At every age.”

Hazel hummed, neither confirming nor denying. “They’re never going to leave your family alone, not now. And Ben knew that as well as I did. So, he made the only call he thought he could… He started the apocalypse.”

“I’m sorry,  _ what?”  _ Allison scooted away from him, and he groaned at the sudden movement. She stuck out her tongue before coming to her senses. “What do you mean he started the apocalypse? Are you saying… Are you saying  _ Ben  _ might have caused the end of the world? Like,  _ our  _ Ben? The one who wanted us to start acting like a family and the one who hated using his powers?”

“Yes.” Hazel waited for a second. “I know I’m bad with kids, but I need you to come back here. I need to stitch up the injury.”

Allison scoffed. “You need to give me a second. How do you even know this is the end of the world—”

“I mean this in the nicest way possible, but… Have you looked outside? There are no limits to the portal Ben opened… Well, besides one. Maybe two. Because two of your siblings have the key to closing the portal again because their powers  _ directly  _ play with that world. Ben could close it, if he chose to.” Hazel nodded at Luther to stand up and walk over to the window. He obliged, throwing up the curtain.

Within a second, the room got washed out by bright blue light. He cringed back from it while Allison gasped. 

“The other one,” Hazel said slowly, “is Five. Which means those two are suddenly the top of the Commission’s hit list. If they kill Ben, they save everyone left alive in that portal. But if they can’t reach Ben…”

“They’ll go for Five,” Luther finished.

And then, someone banged on the door.

Hazel stood up. “Time’s up.”

-

_ They called the monster inside him the Horror… Or they called him the Horror. Ben couldn’t make out the difference; it didn’t seem like the media agreed there was a difference. To the world, he had become the monster living inside of him. All of the bloodshed, all of the gore, belonged to the two of them.  _

_ He didn’t like the name. _

_ But the newly-named Horror crawled around inside him with a certain kind of excitement. It had wanted a name. Despite the mental blockade he kept between the two of them, he had sensed that desire the same day Six transformed into Ben.  _

_ His siblings didn’t seem to love their names either. Some of them made little sense. Five kept griping about being nicknamed  _ ‘the Boy.’  _ It didn’t seem to make any sort of sense. Klaus hated the accent included. He said it made it that much harder to write out, but he also insisted it made him like a real celebrity. _

_ Vanya didn’t even get one.  _

_ Ben hated his beyond words, though. He swallowed down his complaints as he read through the paper. It wasn’t even the worst thing, after all. _

_ When you emerged soaked in blood, they weren’t going to focus on the monster inside. _

-

“Are these all Ben’s memories?” Vanya asked the Horror. It made sure to stay in front of them as it led them through the corrupted, transformed mansion. They were still in the empty ward, the rooms which would’ve been occupied by children had their parents been willing to give them up. 

But in every room, they faced a new memory, exclusive to Ben. 

The air  _ stunk  _ of fear and worry. Klaus kept grabbing at her, near tears, but Vanya forced herself to soldier on. If it was Ben in this position, he wouldn’t give up just because everything felt  _ wrong.  _ He wouldn’t give up because he was starting to grow scared.

When the Horror didn’t respond, she cleared her throat. “Is the fear… Is it Ben’s? Are these Ben’s emotions too?”

The Horror kept pressing on. 

And they kept following.

-

_ The Horror knew it led them to the human’s death. _

_ They won’t understand; they were too young. _

_ But pain was something they will understand well. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's the gist in case you missed what's happening with Vanya and Klaus
> 
> Vanya and Klaus have entered Ben's mind in the same way Ben entered Vanya's in the season two semi-finale. And similar to season one Vanya causing the apocalypse, each room has a different memory.


End file.
